


Stone Cold

by IntoTheFire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Biting, Canon-Typical Violence, Conflict, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Hints at Scott and Allison, Hunter!Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marking, Mate for Life, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Rough Sex, Slow Build, Stiles Raised By Argents, Switching, Table Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheFire/pseuds/IntoTheFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Stiles’ father is killed by a rogue omega - a year after his mother’s death – The Argents, a group of hunters, take him in and raise him like one of their own. The women are leaders and the men are soldiers. Which is exactly what Stiles becomes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **I saw this post and I was just dying to write it, so I wish to thank sterekism for letting me do this:**  
>  http://sterekism.tumblr.com/post/70396957436/au-stiles-father-gets-killed-by-a-rogue-omega-a
> 
>  **PLAYLIST can be found here:** http://8tracks.com/into-the-fire5/stone-cold
> 
> \- Hope you enjoy and please don't hesitate to give me feedback.

“Stiles, go! I said go, _now!_ ”

Stiles stood there, immobilised, watching on in horror as his father repeatedly called out to him. His body was trembling so violently that he felt his legs were going to cave in.

Only moments before was Stiles entering the safe sanctuary of their house, after taking out the trash - which had taken a lot of persuasion on his father’s part. He froze when he suddenly heard low growls from outside, which had seemed dangerously close to them. The sounds had only grown louder as Stiles heard the inevitable footfalls on the wooden porch, right outside their door.

He slowly and cautiously approached the door, concentrating on avoiding the floorboards that he knew creaked with the slightest weight and gently pressed his ear against it. The thin piece of wood as the only barrier between him, as Stiles listened intently to the harsh breaths on the other side. Curiosity was always a dangerous instinct as his dad always stated, but nevertheless, Stiles approached the window, to take a peek, but it’s sudden silhouette suddenly appeared through the curtains, before it began to drag it’s claws agonisingly slowly down the panes as it exhaled harshly, steaming up the window.

In fright, Stiles spun and slammed his back against the door, heartbeat roaring in his ears and his breaths coming out in short bursts as his entire body trembled. The silence that followed was more than discomforting and misleading as he made to move, but the creature came crashing through the window, spilling shattered glass on the floor as it slowly rose to its feet. Stiles had never seen anything like it, the fangs, the claws, the torn clothes, but especially the eyes, the warm, yellow glow that he instantly knew would haunt him forever, leaving a permanent scar on where it felt like they were trying to burn a hole through his chest.

Everything was chaos after that, he noticed his dad stumbling down the stairs with his shotgun, calling for him in panic before he spotted the solitary figure in the moonlight.

Somehow, it had turned into a struggle between the creature and his dad, which is where Stiles found them now; items cascaded around the room, his father pinned to the floor and restrained, but his determination was usually overwhelming and admirable but in this case it was idiotic as he tried to reach for his gun, unwilling to care if he broke his arm in the process.

Stiles didn’t know why this would happen? _Why them?_ All he did know was that he couldn’t leave his father.

“Dad!” Stiles shouted as he instinctively reached for a vase and hurled it in their direction, watching as the antique shattered against the creature’s head instantly. Its attention was then solely focused on Stiles’ small, defenceless form and he took a chance as he raced out of the house without hesitation. As if on cue, the creature pursued him; more than happy to play the predator chasing down his prey as Stiles’ father practically leapt up from the ground.

“Stiles! Godammit!” The sheriff cursed as he reached for his gun.

Stiles ran as fast as his short, skinny legs could keep up with, absentmindedly leading the creature to the outskirts of town, towards the Preserve. Nothing processed in his mind besides the determination to keep his father safe and essentially out of the way as he continued to run. He ignored the chill of the air around him - goose bumps appearing on his already pale skin – the growls and snarls closing in on him along with the heavy thuds of footfalls which had sounded a few too many, like the beast was now chasing him on all fours.

Unknowingly at first, as it had happened too fast for him to process, Stiles found himself on his stomach, grimacing as the sharp pain shot from his ankle and travelled up his body. Sharp twigs and stones digging into exposed skin as he tried to manoeuvre himself, but a weight was suddenly forced on top of him; claws digging into his back but not enough to pierce the skin as Stiles head was swiftly raised by a single finger, exposing his throat. The creature growled again and as he continued to writhe on the damp ground, he caught sight of it raising its bear-sized hand.

Stiles whimpered and forcefully closed his eyes as he braced himself, shaking violently again but he stopped struggling. He was not expecting the shots that were fired in their direction.

Stiles was torn whether to be relieved or horrified that his dad had followed them. Tilting his head, he could only just distinguish his father’s form from the darkness engulfing them all. He couldn’t figure out what his dad was saying as the beast roared in his direction before it lunged for him, releasing Stiles’ from its grasp, leaving him gasping for air. Stiles stumbled several times as he tried to get to his feet again, only to hear a blood curdling scream that reverberated around him. Stiles heard one last shot that echoed through the woodland, before everything fell to a heavy silence.

 

***

 

Stiles lifted his head as he crawled cautiously towards them, eyes trained on the creature that lay slumped on top of his father, waiting for the smallest twitch, but it never moved, but, neither did his dad.

“Dad?” Stiles spoke softly, wondering if he was even loud enough to be heard.

He continued to crawl on his hands and knees, his eyes already starting to water as his breaths came out in shudders. It was only when he was right next to them that he noticed….the blood. _God._ All the blood. Steadily, Stiles pushed the creature off of his dad, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

His dad. His chest was… _shredded._

Stiles clung to false hope as he gently grasped his father’s shoulders before shaking slightly, calling his name over and over, begging for his eyes to slowly peel open and look upon him, but they never did. Mimicking something he’d seen, he hovered his ear over his dad’s nose then his mouth as he waited for a gentle breath to touch his skin, but there was nothing.

He couldn’t prevent the tears that fell in streams as he wrapped his arms around his father’s shoulders and buried himself against his chest, not the least bothered by the blood that he was currently smothering himself in as he clung to his father as if his life depended on it, adamant that they would not be separated. He only squeezed tighter when the rain began to pummel the dark soil surrounding them in thick sheets of icy water. Stiles leant over, sheltering his dad from the storm’s onslaught.

They continued to lie there as time passed by, the weather never letting up. The air was heavy, the unbearable humidity that made Stiles’ clothes fuse with his skin. The wind started to gust in short waves, each one more intense than the next as the rain soon merged into an impenetrable curtain of water. The soil had turned to sludge when Stiles shifted slightly, a new stench filling the atmosphere.

Stiles wished the early hours of the morning would just…appear. At this point, he was sick of the darkness, sick of everything.

Slow, steady footfalls behind him was enough to get Stiles to squeeze tighter as he whimpered quietly, fearing to peek at the onlooker. That’s when he suddenly felt a hand clamp on his shoulder.

“Son?” A deep, husky voice invaded his ears. He flinched.

“Go away. Leave us alone.” He said weakly.

“I’m here to help you.”

“Can you help my dad?” Stiles turned his head, eyes still glistening with forming tears as he stared at the newcomers face. It was too dark to pick out any features though; the guy was just a silhouette.

He waited for an answer, but clearly this person was avoiding the question or only confirming what Stiles already knew, either way, he didn’t want to be coddled right now. “Then I don’t want any help” He murmured, not sure if the guy even heard him as he approached them. Stiles undoubtedly noticed a shadow looming over them, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

The stranger sighed and backed away from them slowly, eyes still fixated on the little boy hovering over his father’s corpse. He retrieved his radio only to hear feedback as the only response. He sighed again and shook it slightly, turning back to the boy again, before someone started babbling down the line.

_Chris! Come in! What’s happening down there?_

Chris exhaled loudly; “I found him.”

_The omega?_

“Yeah”

_Is he dead?_

He glanced at the boy first, but his eyes travelled to the second body nearby, crimson soaking through the clothing and the inevitable wound located on its forehead, right between the eyes, like it was perfectly aimed. Chris had a suspicion this boy wasn’t the one to pull the trigger.

“Yeah. Except I didn’t kill him” He returned simply.

_Then who did? Another hunter?_

“No, the Sherriff.” Chris suddenly heard the kid sniffle again. He wondered just how long they’d been here in the rain.

_Sherriff Stilinski?! What the hell was he doing there?_

“I don’t know, but his kid’s here too. I’m gonna have to take him home.”

_But surely – Oh, you mean his dad’s…_

Chris didn’t respond. Instead he focused on what he could actually tell this boy, whether he was oblivious to the supernatural of Beacon Hills. He couldn’t think of a believable cover up story, since he knew this kid was smart, he had seen him on some occasions when the Sherriff had to interrogate him and his family, due to their reputation as expert hunters.

After much discussion, Chris dispatched as he turned in their direction again. Before he could approach this delicately, the boy spoke up.

“What was that thing; that chased us?” Stiles’ expressive eyes landed on Chris. They were red and sore from all the crying and it seemed he was trying to remain strong about this as he noticed him forcefully close his eyes a few times; trying to fight back any more tears that threatened to fall.

Chris contemplated on telling him the truth. He couldn’t find a good reason not to, since he had just witnessed his father’s death to something unnatural. And something told Chris that if he was to admit the truth, this kid wouldn’t tell a soul.

Chris crouched before him and Stiles shifted away from him instinctively, choosing to remain by his father’s side. Damn, this kid had loyalty, or maybe it was stubbornness. Either way, he took a sharp intake of breath.

“It was a werewolf…” Chris spoke sharply, as he awaited his reaction; looking straight in those amber eyes of his.

“A _werewolf?_ That’s stupid. Werewolves aren’t real.” Stiles mumbled as his head lowered and eyes dropped before he began to pout.

“Do _you_ have any other explanation?”

“I’m not an idiot. Do I look like the kind of person who believes that?” Stiles’ pout intensified as he raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Chris couldn’t prevent the quirk of his lips at the boy’s wit. “No…but it’s the truth. What happened here tonight, wasn’t supposed to happen –

“But it did.” Stiles muttered to himself; focusing on his father’s lifeless body again, tempted to wrap his arms around him again. “It’s my fault…” Stiles almost whispered, “It’s my fault.” He repeated.

 

***

 

Chris and his other men that had eventually arrived disposed of the werewolf corpse before reluctantly calling the police to report an animal killing. There was no way he was just going to leave with the kid before his father was taken elsewhere, even if he had to lie through his teeth about his son not being a witness. The headlights rays illuminated the woods as several police cars pulled up in the Preserve.

It took much convincing, but Chris was assigned the task of taking the child home. Stiles didn’t protest, but remained silent instead, undoubtedly still in shock.

The journey back was filled with an unsettling silence, with Stiles staring out of the window. He glanced at him now and then, trying to think of the right words to say before he realised just how much blood was on him. Chris was sure he was traumatized.

“So kid –“ He began.

Stiles sighed tiredly, “My name’s not ‘kid’” He still didn’t make eye contact with him, “it’s Stiles”

 _Stiles._ _That was it, he remembered now. That was always a name that was mentioned on a daily basis by his father, usually in annoyance, but there was always a certain fondness there._

“Stiles. Now, I don’t know how I plan to explain this to your mom…”

“My mom…”

Chris immediately glanced in his direction, the mournful tone in his voice made him anxious for some reason as he noticed Stiles had slumped in his seat; eyes focusing forward but on nothing in particular. He didn’t even need to ask anything as Stiles’ attention slowly turned on him again, his face full of fatigue and drained of emotion.

“She died a year ago.” Stiles murmured, eyes darting to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” Chris responded almost automatically. There was nothing that could be said; besides the acknowledgment of someone else’s suffering.

“That’s what everyone says” Stiles sighed to himself, resting his chin against his knuckles as he continued to stare out the window.

The silence that followed was discomforting and that was definitely the end of that conversation.

Stiles was still trying to process what had just occurred moments ago. How this had all escalated so quickly, and how quickly his world was taken away from him in one single night. It was unbearable when he lost his mother and even though it had been a year he still never got over it, no matter how much it seemed like he did. After that he and his father took care of each other. Stiles would discourage him if his dad started his old drinking habits again, while other times when Stiles had nightmares or had trouble sleeping overall, his dad would come in and stay with him until he drifted off. Some mornings, Stiles would rouse to find his dad still sleeping next to him. It was difficult, but they both got through it.

“Do you have anywhere I can take you?”

Chris’ low voice snapped Stiles back to the present, but he didn’t respond as his head was flooded with memories again and he felt this unbearable ache in his chest, like it was hollow.

“Stiles?” Chris asked again, sounding more concerned this time.

“No.”

“Do you have any other family? Any close friends you can stay with?”

“No. I don’t have anyone else.” Stiles replied.

Chris averted his eyes as he clutched the steering wheel. An idea struck in his head. Though, it would take a lot of convincing and persuasion on his part before it could even be close to being approved, but he couldn’t see any alternative. He purposefully took a detour.

 

***

 

The jeep came to a stop in the drive of Chris’ house. He admitted he did reconsider his options, but he decided against it.

“Stay in the car.” He addressed him assertively even though he knew Stiles was in no position to bolt off anywhere.

Chris sighed again as he got out of the black, metallic jeep and headed straight towards the house; halting when he saw his wife peering out of the window behind the thin layer of curtain with a disapproving look before disappearing.

Just like he had expected, he was met with her defiance as soon as his foot crossed the threshold, barely making it through the doorway. Mrs Argent – _Victoria_ – stood before him with her arms folded, glancing over his shoulder to spot a solitary figure in the passenger seat. Her nostrils flared as she motioned for him to come in so she could close the door behind him. She leant against the door as she folded her arms again, ready to interrogate and lecture him.

Of course. Since when was it that she and Chris agreed on anything.

“I heard about the little _stunt_ it pulled, but Chris, what is this? Are we suddenly opening a foster home now?” Victoria said sharply, tilting her head trying to catch his eyes.

“He has nowhere to go.”

“ _Right._ ” she nodded, her voice drawling with sarcasm. “No friends? No family?” she offered.

“His only family was mauled by an omega!” Chris hadn’t meant for his voice to rise, but it was vital that point got across to her - though he planned a different approach. “Do you have any idea what that does to a kid?!”

“And it hasn’t been the first! It’s unfortunate, it is. But we can’t just take him in!”

They were both interrupted during tirade when they heard careful footsteps coming down the stairs. The room fell silent as a small figure appeared in the doorway. Their daughter, Allison stood before them, arms resting against her sides and hands scrunching up the material of her nightdress nervously as she observed them. They didn’t like reliving this scene as Allison would always look between them, silently pleading them to explain what was wrong.

“Mum? Dad? What’s going on? Are you guys fighting again?” That sweet, innocent voice was barely heard between them as they both looked each other expectantly.

Allison’s mother turned to her and forced a smile on her lips, “No, sweetheart, it’s nothing. Go back upstairs to bed, I’ll be up in a minute.”

Although Allison didn’t seem particularly convinced, it was enough reassurance as she smiled faintly before advancing up the stairs to her room again, leaving them both struggling for words or any intention of finishing their discussion.

Victoria clicked her tongue as she scanned Chris’ face for any uncertainty of his motives, but he was adamant to let the subject go. She knew that Chris had always wanted another child or mostly importantly, a son. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his daughter. It was never that, due to his protectiveness over her, he adored her so much, but like any male, he desired a father and son bond. But that reason alone would not persuade her, although it was getting hard to refuse at this point.

“What makes you think you can raise him?”

“I don’t know.” He replied with a humourless chuckle and he actually looked like he didn’t, but the determination was still evident in his tone as he never broke eye contact.

Stiles waited in the jeep for what seemed like forever, time dragging minute by minute as he went into a daze. He had no idea where he intended to go after this. There was literally no one. No one he could stay with and he wasn’t prepared to stay with some elderly couple who’ll no doubt treat him like a prince and smother him every chance they had. He didn’t want _that_ kind of attention. He just wanted a home and also a distraction from his thoughts always replaying that same incident over and over again in his head. Stiles would admit, he really wanted to forget, if that meant the pain he felt ever since would finally fade. He startled when there were sudden taps on his window.

Chris motioned for him to wind down the window as he braced his arm against the side of the car. “Follow me - ”

“What for?” Stiles asked as his eyes turned to serpentine slits, suspicion flooding his voice.

“- Unless you prefer to stay out here…” Chris raised his eyebrows as he struggled to fight back a smirk as he watched Stiles glance around them before shaking his head frantically.

Chris didn’t need to look back to reassure himself that Stiles was about to follow him as he headed inside, leaving the door open.

 

***

****

**_9 years later…_ **

 

It dawned on people how the Preserve held the deepest, darkest secrets that no one would ever believe. So many past events linger there, along with all the ventures that have yet to come.

The woodland seemed ominously quiet that the hunter paused. Now that even the sound of his own footfalls was silent, all that could be heard was the susurration of the leaves in the gentle wind. Looking up, he was transfixed by the myriad of fluttering leaves that danced in the high boughs. He was instantly calmed, almost hypnotised, but the longer he stared, the more the boughs seemed to draw closer, blocking out the rays of moonlight as if they were forming a cage around him. Even in the dark, the dappled shades of emerald did not go unnoticed along with the cloud of pine scented air and dampness that was held in place. He suddenly remembered the few nights he had slept out here for peace and solace while he was assigned to go hunting. He needed his space every now and then, since it felt like he was being smothered at times.

The silence was beginning to get eerie as the hunter advanced into the deepest parts of the Preserve, eventually reaching the murky waters of the lake. He cautiously scanned his surroundings, eyes catching the sudden movements in the water. The ripples that occasionally grew in the short gusts of wind. A sudden snap of a twig was enough to be in pursuit as he raced through the shallow areas of the lake, solely focused on his target.

The adrenalin had his blood pumping with each step he took as he heard his prey running not so far ahead of him. One slip up and he knew he would have him. It felt good. For once, to be the hunter and not the hunted.

He aimed his crossbow at the deer that came to a sudden stop; its petal shaped ears tilting and turning, listening intently. Squinting, he went to release, only to watch the deer suddenly collapse to the ground, with another arrow buried in its neck.

“ _Dammit_ ” he cursed to himself as he straightened; inhaling sharply. “That was _my_ kill!”

A tall, slender figure appeared in the shadows, still clutching their bow and arrow as they carefully manoeuvred down the overhang, before gracefully landing to their feet.

“Sorry Stiles, but it was only a matter of time, since I could hear you halfway across the Preserve. Next time, try a little stealth.” Allison said sharply.

“Hey, don’t talk to me like you’re the expert here.” Stiles responded, defensively, gesturing between them.

Allison placed her hands on her hips. “I’ve been trained longer than you have Stiles.”

“Point? I’m a fast learner.”

“Obviously not fast enough.” Allison sighed, trying to fight back a smile as she watched Stiles’ face morph into an offended expression.

“Not everyone was born into an exalted position.” Stiles pursed his lips as he folded his arms, like the stubborn teenager he was.

They continued to stare at each other during the silence, but it soon dissipated quickly as they both began to snigger, unable to hold their amusement any longer. It was difficult to contain a sense of pride when around each other, especially when it came to competition. Stiles admitted he had started the whole thing off, when he once snagged an omega a few winters ago when it was clear Allison was hunting it. He had said it was a _coincidental encounter_ but of course Allison never believed him and ever since, they’ve tried to get even with each other. He abided by that, only Allison seemed to do it more than necessary, which slightly irked him, because he was constantly trying to prove himself to the group. Yes, Stiles had many successful kills and captures and it always boosted his confidence, but he felt he was being undermined. By what, he wasn’t sure, but he kept hunting. Always trying to protect others from suffering what he had suffered all those years ago.

Stiles huffed as he threw his hands up, “I know I can be competitive at times – and you’re a prime example too - but I refuse to be Gimli here while you’re Legolas.”

Allison grinned, “ _Again_ , with the references?” She saw Stiles tilt his head in questioning as his eyebrows shot high on his head. “Besides, I’ve always seen you more as… Pippin.”

Stiles frowned then, his offended look returning as he scoffed. He rubbed a hand down his face as he faced her again.

“Screw you. I’m not a _klutz._ ” He emphasized as he fixed her a stern glare.

Allison shrugged, before attempting to brush his cheek with her hand delicately but he shifted away from her, which only made her smile again as she approached the carcass.

“Come on, let’s move him before he attracts predators” She grabbed its spindly legs and began to haul it over her shoulder before they both heard growling in the distance.

“He already has.” Stiles stated simply as he loaded his crossbow and began to move in its direction, halting when he noticed Allison doing the same. “What are you doing?”

“Going after it”

“No. You’re taking him back. _I’m_ going after it.” Stiles rushed ahead before she could even protest, probably mumbling something about his arrogance - but _come on._ _He was arrogant?_

Stiles proceeded into the abyss, concentrating this time on his movements as he lifted his crossbow, crouching low as he made his way up the hill. He peered over once, searching his surroundings from left to right for any hint of its disappearance, but everything was eerily silent.

That was until he heard huffs of breath behind him, ragged and slightly strained. Stiles swiftly turned to spot three werewolves lurking in the darkness of the overhanging trees, and he expected an instant attack. He had taken three werewolves out once before, completely unscathed, but from their appearance of well-built bodies and broadness, he was cautious as he instantly trained his crossbow in their direction.

When a collision of claws and crossbow didn’t occur, he lowered his weapon slightly to observe them and it seemed their attention wasn’t on him – now that he thought about it, it looked like a struggle was happening down there.

Two of them looked to be restraining the other, which was thrashing about in their grasp, roaring and snarling, with its eyes an illuminating light of golden yellow. Why the other two were restraining it puzzled him before a sudden memory triggered in his mind as he remembered the werewolf that had stood before him that night. That flashback seemed to snap him back into reality as he felt a sudden rage and deep loathing swell inside him as he trained his crossbow on one of them, taking a long trembling breath before he fired.

Stiles heard the impact before the snarls and roars became howls of pain as it dropped to the ground. That instantly caught the others attention as they both turned in his direction but only one began charging towards him, eyes flashing a cold, steel blue which threw him off slightly. It was a beta, but it was the first time he encountered one with blue eyes. He didn’t have enough time to load another arrow, so he grabbed one and hurled it in his direction when it came close enough, relieved when he saw it bury itself in the arm that was about to strike the blow. Stiles gained an advantage as the beta flinched in pain; lifting his leg to pound it into its torso, sending it back down to the ground with one swift motion, but Stiles grimaced at the impact. _What the hell? Is its chest made of freaking stone?_

He scrambled backwards to obtain the high ground as he went to load another arrow, fixated on the most broad and built one running towards him on all fours, growling viciously. It suddenly leapt a feet in the air, bringing an arm back, to attempt a blow itself and that’s when Stiles witnessed the inevitable glow of blood red. _An Alpha._ His finger slipped when he pulled the trigger, lining up inaccurately causing the arrow to miss his target completely.

“Shit” Stiles cursed as he swiftly rolled out of the way to the side, watching as the Alpha’s arm slammed onto the ground to where Stiles’ form had been previously, crouching into a fighting position before looking in his direction again and snarling. Stiles scrambled to his feet, heart pounding in his ears as he tried to reach for his knife, fingers brushing against his thigh holster, cursing to himself that he’d forgotten that second where his knife was located.

The Alpha stalked towards him then and thrust its blunt nails into his abdomen, which had lifted him off the ground completely and sent him flying into the tree behind him. The impact was overwhelming as his entire body seized up in pain that it felt like he was being pinned against the tree; the sharp pieces of bark slashed into his back through his clothing like small knives. Stiles’ head started to throb violently as he slid down the trunk to a state on the ground. Black spots invaded his vision as he noticed the werewolf approach him, dragging every step as he did so.

“You scum…” Stiles spat as he struggled to get to his feet, the will to fight so strong within him before a hand was clamped around his throat, fingers digging into his pulse point, dragging him upright until his feet just hovered above the ground.

Hot breaths spilled onto his face as the red eyes returned and Stiles cringed at their close proximity as the Alpha growled in response, but his breath hitched then. Like he was transfixed by something, like he had just _realised_ something. Undoubtedly about Stiles.

Stiles paid no heed as he used the time to retract his knife and stab at its shoulder with a snarl of rage, relishing the roar of pain that escaped through its teeth before he kicked ruthlessly against him, surprisingly sending the werewolf to the ground with the knife still wedged in its shoulder before he trained his crossbow on him, loading an arrow quickly. But something was off. The alpha seemed reluctant to attack him now, and that severely angered and confused him to no end before he rose the weapon on him again, finger brushing against the trigger as he aimed for the head. But he was suddenly knocked to the ground by what he assumed was the beta again, his head smacking the hard earth, as he drifted in and out of consciousness, catching exchanged words between the two werewolves.

_What? I just saved you from being an addition to their decorations._

_No, stop! Leave him! – Where is he? Why aren’t you with him?!_

_He seems to have calmed now, despite the arrow jammed in his side._

_…It won’t heal like that. Let’s go, we need to take care of his wounds._

 

***

 

The ice-cold sheets of rain colliding with his face, was more than enough to gasp himself awake, rubbing the back of head and grimacing when the pain came rushing back. _Just how long was he out?_

Stiles suddenly remembered the pack of werewolves and he sat up instantly, ignoring the case of head rush as he reached for his crossbow, pausing when he saw a glint of metal within the damp, cascade of leaves. His knife. He noticed the crimson stains on the blade. That’s right, he fought one of them –an alpha.

 _But what, they all just returned his weaponry? And left him,_ alive?

“Stiles!”

Stiles groaned as he shifted to stand on his feet, swiping his knife off the ground. He hoped he didn’t look battered, although he was certain he looked a state currently as Chris appeared across the lake. Of course Allison brought help. She knew from the beginning that he was going mess it up which is exactly what happened. Stiles had encountered _three_ werewolves, and after an intense fight, all of them had made it out alive.

Chris and his followers, along with Allison ran over to him, and Stiles could already hear the lecture about to pass Chris’ mouth.

“My god…” Chris muttered as he stalked over to him and viewed Stiles’ head, brushing a few strands of hair away to inspect the wound. Stiles seemed oblivious to the trickle of blood that ran down his temple. “Do you have any other wounds?”

“No –“

“Any bites –“

“No –“

“…scratches?”

“ _Chris._ I’m fine. Seriously. It’s just a little _bump_ on the head.” Stiles spoke sharply. Chris rolled his eyes as he stepped out of his personal space and Stiles narrowed his eyes at Allison. “ _Thanks_.”

“What was I supposed to do? You were gone a long time.” Allison asked in disbelief as she threw her arms up in protest.

“You could’ve been killed” Chris’ seethed, but Stiles knew that was another way of showing how concerned he was for his safety, but he was still frustrated to no end.

“But I wasn’t - ” Stiles pointed out, gesturing to himself.

“How many were there?” Chris suddenly asked.

“…Three.”

Chris’ eyes widened in shock but soon radiated to anger as he took another step towards him. Stiles only wish he could brag and say it was no big deal, but considering he looked like hell, and there were no signs of werewolf corpses, everyone was made aware that they had slipped through his fingers. “You took on three of them? _By yourself?”_

“It’s not been the first time.” Which maybe he shouldn’t have let slip, considering Chris’ narrowed eyes, “Besides, I can handle it.”

“I see that –“

“They just got lucky and it’s not like they got off unscathed. I left them something to remember me by.”

Chris’ jaw tensed as he scanned Stiles again, checking him from head to toe before turning away from him without another word. The kid was so reckless. His fighting spirit was admirable but it would always be his downfall. From the start, Stiles was always so eager but Chris knew it was mainly for pain management, his way of dealing with loss. Victoria would always smile at him in awe while Chris forced himself to not look upon Stiles with sympathy or pity, because Stiles was never good with that, he would always dismiss it.

“Let’s head back. They’re waiting on us.” Chris addressed, already leading them out of the woods.

Stiles sighed as he looked to Allison who stood there motionless, entirely focused on him, waiting for him to accompany her as they trekked. He obliged, though her expression screamed distress, like something was on the tip of her tongue and he just waited for her to crack.

“Stiles, before you say anything –“

“Too late –“

“I was worried about you!” They both stopped, as Allison's usual calm demeanour morphed into anguish.

“Maybe, but you didn’t have to bring the whole freaking group did you?”

“Actually, most of them volunteered. Do you have any idea how much you matter to us? Or have you forgotten that?”

Stiles paused; there was really no way of arguing with that. Grateful was too small a word to describe what Stiles felt for the Argents and the rest of the group for practically rescuing him. And for Chris to take a hyper-active, snarky, sarcastic, Adderall addicted kid under his wing.

“I can’t believe you took on three by yourself.”

“What do you mean? You’ve taken on more.” Though he never believed it when they told him the third time.

“I know, but, you’re considered the baby of group, so –“

Stiles shoved at her shoulder and she stumbled slightly, only to chuckle lightly to herself as they continued walking. Dawn was close, the first few rays highlighting the cloudless sky above them, and they were both fans of watching the sun rise and the sun-set. It was calming, although it made Allison slightly too nostalgic, which eventually drove Stiles to leaving; joking about ‘leaving them two alone.’ In a way, the sunsets reminded him of his mother, as she was always intrigued and fascinated with the breath-taking sight, which is why when he was younger, he would always take pictures of the moment for her birthday, so he could make small collages of them that she collected and at one point, actually framed in his parent’s room. And to witness them all with Allison and not by himself made it much better. Those moments may be little through another’s eyes, but they were the few moments were he felt peaceful or anything close to how he felt before…everything.

“So, come on then, _fearless one_ , spill. Were they betas? omega’s?”

“Actually, two of them were betas, but, there was an Alpha.”

Allison suddenly placed a hand against his chest forcing him to a stop and she looked at him like he had just informed her that her mother was pregnant. Allison peered in front of them, checking that no-one else heard that, before she asked what she thought she had misheard.

“An Alpha?!” Stiles only nodded, while she opened and closed her mouth several times trying to find the right kind of response; clearly her emotions were all over the place as he watched her face morph into shock, then to disbelief, then to concern, then to anger, then to confusion. “How did you – What – How are you still alive?”

_Well, that was something he didn’t expect._

“Thanks again –“

“No, I mean. How did you fight it off? You’ve never had experience with an Alpha before.”

“Instinct, I guess. Though, something happened –“

“What? Oh god, you weren’t – infected were you?” Allison sounded wary as she studied him.

“What? No! No.” He scolded her, “I just – I was knocked down – into a tree…” He looked up to see her smirking uncontrollably and he scowled at her. “Shut up…and then he picked me up and started throttling me…and then he just stopped” Stiles seemed puzzled at his own words as he continued to stare at the ground as he shuffled his feet.

“ _Stopped?_ ”

“I don’t know, he just paused, and that’s when I stabbed him. After that, he never attacked me again and not because he was unable to.” Stiles lowered his head to look down at himself before meeting her curious eyes again. “Have you ever had that?”

Allison shook her head, but still stared at him. No, she had never experienced that before, even down to their last breath, the beasts never stopped coming, they never stopped fighting and she had survived a few close shaves herself.

“Stiles, something like that never happens…I mean, it could’ve been the adrenalin -”

“You don’t believe me.” Stiles jaw tensed as he scowled at her intensely.

“Stiles –“

“You think I’m bullshitting?”

“I never said that.” She pointed a finger in his direction as she fixed him a stern look, feeling her own temper rise.

“No, fine. I get it. Besides, I’m the just _the baby_ of the group so what the hell would I know right?!” Stiles’ snapped as he stormed off to follow the others, leaving Allison standing there in bafflement.

Not that he could blame her. What had happened sounded ridiculous when he listened to himself. Nevertheless, it had happened, no matter how much others doubted, he was spared by that pack. Stiles had attacked them first, took a shot at each one and in the end, even when he was on his back, weak and defenceless - standing no chance of fighting them off if they tried – they fled. Knowing they were still out there now, was tempting enough to hunt them down. They may not have killed him tonight, but they could have killed someone else by now and that thought alone would definitely deprive him of sleep night.

For now, he planned to keep this to himself. Allison didn’t believe him and Chris was definitely a lost cause, so either way, he couldn’t win. Another thing was, if he was ever to encounter the same pack again, this time, there will be no survivors.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, next chapter people, I was literally writing this at every chance I had, haha. Enjoy.
> 
> >>Warning: Small scene of violence.
> 
> Reminder: Playlist can be found here: http://8tracks.com/into-the-fire5/stone-cold
> 
> **Follow me on Tumblr for updates and snippets: http://into-the-fire5.tumblr.com/**

 

* * *

 

Allison had been lingering in the doorway for a solid minute, arms braced against the wooden frame as she followed Stiles’ movement. He didn’t seem to have acknowledged her as he continued to saunter around his room, absentmindedly brushing his fingers against objects as he passed them, until his eyes rested on the frame sat on his bedside table. Stiles was torn whether to smile or cry as he inspected it closer, his thumb brushing delicately over his mother’s face. Of course he knew he had only himself to blame as he had stated he couldn’t leave _everything_ behind when he first moved in with the Argents, asking if he could keep this picture of his family, all those years ago. He had always like that picture.

Stiles sighed as he shrugged off his jacket, throwing it onto the bed before pausing, feeling the full intensity of concerned eyes on him. “Why are you being such a creeper?”

“I’m not creeping.” Allison’s innocent tone almost made him believe her, “I’m just concerned.”

Stiles scoffed as he slumped on his shrivelled bed and began removing his hunting boots. “You mean you wanna know if I’m still pissed?”

Allison looked away as she thought about it honestly, “That too.”

“Well I’m not, but that doesn’t mean it’s blown over. I know what I saw.”

“Stiles –“

“Don’t try and turn this against me–“

“Actually, I was going to ask if you were still attending the gathering tonight” Allison’s arms dropped as she raised her voice defensively, locking eyes with him, watching him study her in consideration.

 _Ah._ Stiles had completely forgotten about the gathering. One night, for every week, the Argents met up with other groups of hunters for a night of… hunting… and a campfire. The hunting part he liked, it was the campfire part he loathed. The elder man; Earl, was always the host, limping out of his cabin to join them around the campfire as he told them of legends and myths, which Stiles wasn’t particularly fond of.

“Wouldn’t miss it” Stiles drawled sarcastically as he placed his crossbow on the frame against the wall, almost like a trophy above his bed. Ever since he started having nightmares, he struggled to distinguish what was real and what was not, so he had chosen to sleep with a pistol hidden under his pillow and his crossbow just above his bedframe, in reach. Just in case.

“Sitting ‘round a fire in the middle of nowhere, in the cold, in the open, listening to some old fossil tell us about the ‘ancient times’ which I could probably recite word for word by now.” Stiles pursed his lips, his eyebrows shooting high above his head.

“That’s one way of putting it –“

“And for what?”

“Chris says it’s important. It’s educational.”

“Really” Stiles deadpanned quirking an eyebrow and sighing deeply.

“You used to be fond of them…” Allison spoke calmly as she trained her eyes on the floor again, shifting awkwardly as she waited for a response. She never knew why Stiles had been so reluctant to attend the last few weeks, but then again, she never asked.

“Yeah, when I was _twelve_ ” Stiles emphasised, straightening himself as he noticed the roll of Allison’s eyes.

He was so persistent, but that was one of the reasons why she was so fond of him.

“So, what? You want me to tell them you backed out this time? Because something tells me I don’t think Chris will allow that” Allison asked.

“No.” Stiles mumbled, eyeing his hunting boots as he was buried in his thoughts. “No” He repeated, “I’ll go.” Stiles sighed irritably as he scooped his jacket that was draped over his bed before manoeuvring himself through the doorway, which Allison was still leaning against and trudging downstairs.

“Just don’t be sitting there pouting the whole time” Allison called out after him over her shoulder, not expecting the answer that followed only a few moments later.

“When have I ever?”

Allison couldn’t prevent the light hearted chuckle that escaped her and the smirk that played across her lips as she headed downstairs herself to assist her dad with luggage.

Allison herself was quite fond of the meetings. She had a certain fascination with history and she was always eager to find out more about her family’s origin, unlike other teenagers. Besides, her hunting skills and knowledge was passed down to her through generations that it was practically like second nature.  Stiles was always curious himself, but he wanted knowledge that he could take advantage of and use for his own purposes; to learn quicker, to get better and to do what must be done. Somehow, she thought he and Gerrard would get a long rather well, though she highly doubted they would ever have a chance to meet in person, which was something Allison preferred as she was wary of her grandfather.

Chris had asked for assistance when they began loading the car, stacking crate upon crate in the boot. They had to rearrange several times to make room for their bags and other necessities. After hunting, the alternative was for the groups to stay the night in tents at the Lockwood campsite upstream. The site was engulfed in the greenery surrounding them, but there was a small stream nearby that stretched for miles, which lead to more open area that Stiles often wandered off to.

Allison’s fingers slipped on one of the more heavy bags as she tried to regain her balance also.

“I got it, I got it” Chris chuckled lightly as he carefully took the luggage from her and placed it in the backseat. “Did you talk to Stiles?”

Allison perked up at that, “I didn’t know I had to.”

“You’re right, you didn’t, but I assumed you would.” Chris half smiled as he shot a quick glance at her over his shoulder.

“I don’t know dad, he just seems so sure of what happened, but – I just – I can’t believe it.” Allison sighed.

She looked troubled, like the fact that even _she_ couldn’t believe Stiles’ word was concerning. Stiles always knew he could count on her, but for once, she could not believe this one.

“Whatever happened, he had a lucky escape.” Chris mumbled as he slammed the boot down and gestured for Allison to get in the car as he went to retrieve the rest of the equipment…and Stiles.

 Chris halted at the base of the staircase as he watched Stiles trudge down the steps, his hunting boots stretching high to just below his knees, his usual black jacket over his grey, V-neck top along with his black leather gloves. It overwhelmed him slightly. Like every time he caught a glimpse of Stiles in the right light, that showed off just how much he had grown. Chris snapped out of his thoughts when Stiles’ cocked an eyebrow.

“You ready?”

“Yeah” Stiles simply replied, half-smiling as he exhaled deeply.

 

 

 

***

 

The journey there was always the same. Silent and especially since Stiles was going through a phase where everything he says is total crap, it was particular awkward and it hung heavy in the air.

Stiles peered out of the window, avoiding Allison’s watchful gaze, like she was waiting for him to break the silence first, but he never did. He was too distracted by the passing houses and streetlights that flickered on and off as they headed east. The familiarity of the woods was like second nature to them.

Stiles noticed the faint trail of smoke leading up from between the trees, the thick scent of burning wood invading his sinuses. If the elder had lived closer to town, he would have had the press or public swarming him by now, no doubt being referred to as the ‘crazy man in the woods’, which he sort of was, but still.

As the vehicle turned into the road gradually disappearing into the darkness, Allison spoke up, but timidly, breaking the tension lingering in the air.

“It’s probably going to be silent again.” Allison stated, glancing at Chris in the rear-view mirror, before chancing a glance in Stiles’ direction.

“Yeah, maybe.” Stiles mumbled absentmindedly, too deep in thought to focus on anything else. He felt lost. He didn’t know what to think about this whole thing. Every ounce of him thought It was ridiculous, the whole thing was beyond ridiculous. Stiles was so close to being mauled himself but the Alpha had held back, specifically after Stiles was in close proximity with him and he’d stabbed him. But Stiles knew for certain that wasn’t fear in its eyes. It was something else.

The car had suddenly stopped moving, the whirring sound of the engine faint, but still there. He wondered how long they’d been sat here as he hadn’t noticed before. Puzzled, Stiles looked around, panic rising within him when he realised he was alone.

Stiles straightened himself in his seat, peering outside the window as the car suddenly rocked, a loud metal clash occurred above him and he instinctively reached behind his seat to retrieve a weapon. His crossbow was still packed in one of the many crates in the boot, the only access to get out and open it. He decided a gun would suffice.

He fumbled with the Wolfsbane bullets, as he tried to load as quickly as possible. Only when another clash of weight was heard above him did he leap out of the car, gun trained in the attacker’s direction, but there wasn’t a trace of its presence anywhere.

“Come, on!” Stiles shouted, his rapid heartbeat thundering in his ears as he realised he didn’t know his location, this part of the wood didn’t seem familiar at all and that made him anxious. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles noticed a blur of movement from the other side of the car, catching sight in the shattered mirrors. He dashed in pursuit, only to freeze when he stumbled upon someone slumped against the side of the car, stiff hand still clutching a gun in its grasp. Whoever it was, they were unrecognisable. They’d been mauled by something and whatever it was, it was still here.

Stiles made to search but the sudden glint of a familiar heirloom wrapped around the guy’s neck made him inspect closer. He literally felt his heart stop.

Oh god. _Chris._

A guttural roar echoed around him as he straightened instinctively, spotting the car’s hood that had ripped off and hissing steam escaping from its contents. He felt sick. He felt like vomiting, was pretty sure he was going to with all the anger, hurt, panic and anxiety bubbling beneath his skin as he glanced again at Chris; sudden realisation hitting him.

“Allison” Stiles whispered to himself, before growling in anger, running straight for the incessant snarls in the distance, salty tears stinging his eyes. He remembered every technique Chris ever taught him about tracking as the noises began to fade, like he was about to lose them. Either he was good at tracking or just lucky but he finally found it.

It resembled the werewolves featured in those lame horror movies, only much, much worse; by far the ugliest thing he’d ever set eyes on. Its eyes were as red as the blood moon.

Stiles swiftly raised his gun and fired without hesitation, watching on as the beast began to gargle, the infinite glow of blue sparked from the wound, making it collapse to the ground. He began to sigh of slight relief when he heard weak coughing and spluttering coming from behind it, eyes darting to the body in the shadows. Despite the darkness, Stiles couldn’t mistake the long, dark wavy hair spilled on the ground.

“Allison!” Stiles exclaimed as he rushed over to her, dropping to his knees instantly.

He reached a hand behind her to lift before gently cradling her head. She didn’t acknowledge him as she stared onward, lips parted as if trying to speak. Stiles couldn’t look down her, he didn’t want see how bad it was, but his body betrayed him as his eyes drifted. She wasn’t as bad as Chris, but her throat and insides were shredded just the same.

“Come on, Allison. Hang on just a little longer, just –“ Stiles reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, but as he dialled, he realised there was no signal. _Who was there to call?_ No one else really knew of their location and he was sure they would arrive too late. “Allison,” he started sharply, almost warningly, “You got to stay awake, -God!” he forced out, lips trembling violently as the tears started to fall uncontrollably.

Her dull eyes finally fell on him, looking up and down his from as if trying to memorise every inch of him which instantly made him cry harder, panting in short and constant bursts, close to hyperventilating. As he looked down at her again it looked like she was trying to say his name, but the way her throat was torn open had her gulping and grunting instead. She managed to raise her hand and she brushed it against his jaw line delicately before dropping it again onto her stomach.

 _Please, not here. Not now._ He’d already lost Chris, he couldn’t lose her too.

Stiles made to move as he scooped his arms underneath her, but Allison instantly cried out in agony as she reached up to clutch his jacket; whimpering. Something broke within him. He had never heard her make that noise before and something had him babbling useless sentences that he didn't know if it was to reassure her or him.

“I know. I know it hurts, Allison, but we got to –“he froze when she cried out again.  “I know, I know.” Stiles babbled desperately, noticing the silence that followed as he lifted again, his head darting back towards her.

“Allison?”

She was staring at him blankly as her hand slid and dropped from Stiles’ jacket, mouth still agape from where she had been screaming. Stiles instantly cupped her cheeks, cringing at the cold contact. He made another desperate noise as he quickly glanced behind him, then back to her. “No. No, no. GOD!” Stiles burst out, leaning forward until his hair gently brushed her forehead, tears spilling onto her face as they ran down his cheeks and nose. He felt like screaming, and was incredibly close to if he wasn’t suddenly distracted by the sudden pull he felt from the full moon overhead. It was a very unusual sensation. One that he had never experienced before and it made him shudder as he looked up, eyes lingering on the moon illuminating the night sky, rays peeking through the overhanging branches and touching his skin.

He hissed in pain as he moved back, away from her and clutching his side, wincing when he felt marks on his soft skin. _Wait._ They’d felt like bite marks. Stiles frantically pulled his shirt up his torso, to inspect the wound, the inevitable teeth marks and fresh crimson contrasting with his pale skin. _Oh shit._

“Stiles!”

He jolted upright as he tried to regain focus, panting harshly. He found himself in a weird position with his legs in the air.

“Are you planning on getting out of the car?” Allison smirked, trying to hold back a wide grin.

Stiles snapped his head in her direction and huffed in shock, steaming up the window slightly, before scrambling out of the car altogether. He felt warm as he met her lit up face, cheeks a light shade of pink due to the bitter cold, her brown eyes so full of colour then earlier and just generally full of life. He realised he had been staring too long to freak her out before his eyes drifted to Chris who was unloading the boot, completely oblivious to Stiles’ unusual behaviour.

_He’d fallen asleep._

“You’re okay” He breathed as he exchanged looks between them, waiting for any sort of response, not wanting to leave that in the open.

Chris’ brow furrowed in confusion as he reached down to grip a crate from the boot. He may have been wearing that expression, but he looked amused nonetheless as he walked towards their cabin.

“Once my heart starts beating again, yeah.” Allison sighed, stalling when she noticed Stiles glancing at her, Chris and then the car. He seemed transfixed by something. “Stiles, you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah” he replied, attempting to follow Chris with a box of supplies, “Yeah” he repeated.

 

 

 

***

 

The air around them was heavy and unsettling, the ominous glow of the moon illuminating the black, velvety sky as the wind howled. It had been silent for a while now and it was beginning to get concerning.

A door behind him opened ajar, creaking loudly before a lone figure appeared in the doorway.

“He’s settled, now. Well, as much as he can” Peter forced a smile as he approached Derek who stood silently in front of the French window, staring at the moon.

Their current establishment was not what they had in mind, but it would do until they could press forward. The building was huge; everything looked opulent from the gleaming wood floors covered in throw rugs to the sheer curtains billowing like mist on the wall of floor to ceiling windows that faced a slope and then a sunset. The furnishings were old but had a story to tell; antiques with what looked like hand carved workmanship into each area of the room. Each room was more than enough for three people. If he was perfectly honest with himself, Derek had grown attached to the house as he had felt calmer each day they spent here. It reminded him of the Hale house before it was burnt to ashes. He had to keep reminding himself that it was only temporary as they had drawn attention to themselves and now more hunters would know of their location.

Peter tilted his head before he cautiously approached him again, stopping in his tracks as he heard Derek exhale deeply. He had been stood here for a solid 20 minutes, replaying the scene over and over again in his mind, while Peter attended to their newest member of their pack; Isaac, who had somehow escaped into the Preserve. There was only a limited amount of time as a werewolf’s first full-moon was always the worst.

Derek sighed, “We were lucky.”

“I prefer fortunate.” Peter smirked as he sauntered around the room, back turned from him, his eyelids lowered to the ground. He knew Derek had been deep in thought the whole time while he dealt with Isaac, and he couldn’t help his curiosity. “Especially from that hunter.” He drawled out, turning his head in Derek’s direction, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

Derek tensed as he closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he remained silent.

“I could have finished him off, you know, since you were incapable of doing so.” Derek’s head turned towards him slightly, wearing a scowl. Peter held his hands up in submission, sighing slightly. “Of course, I forgot. Don’t you ever get tired of being so moral?”

“I don’t have to be a killer” he fired back.

“Where did you learn to think like that?” Peter asked innocently, knowing perfectly well whose words Derek was using. “Need I remind you, _he_ attacked _us._ All the more reason.”

“He was protecting himself” Derek said sharply.

“Defending him, now? “ Peter asked, voice rising with confusion. “He would’ve killed you, me and Isaac instantly if I hadn’t of intervened, so the slightest hint of gratitude would be much appreciated…”

Derek turned and faced him, folding his arms and raising his eyebrows as his jaw tensed. Peter rolled his eyes as he dropped his head, arms bracing the couch in front of him. Derek made to walk into the next room to check on Isaac, passing Peter, avoiding eye contact, until Peter decided to press the subject further. “Unless, there was another reason why you wouldn’t let me kill him.”

Derek’s body tensed, straightening himself in response, deciding to ignore his comment as he entered the other room. Peter smirked maliciously to himself as he listened to Derek leaving.

Isaac was perched on the sofa, trembling hands in his lap as he looked ahead, focusing on nothing in particular, until he heard someone come in. He titled his head to meet Derek’s concerned eyes, scanning every inch of him as he walked further and further into the room until he rested his back against the wall across from him, folding his arms.

“You alright?” Derek asked in a low voice, concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah.” Isaac replied, hanging his head as he twiddled his thumbs. He bit the inside of his cheek, “Although, I don’t - really know what happened, I mean I can’t remember…” he mumbled.

“You’ll remember, give it time. The first full moons are usually when we are most feral; it’ll take time adjusting to.”

“ _Adjusting_ ” Isaac scoffed, shaking his head. “What, running around in the middle of nowhere, killing people?”

“You didn’t _kill_ anybody” Derek bit out, fixing him a glare.

“I could’ve” Isaac lifted his head, looking right into his eyes.

He was right. There was always a high chance that Isaac would eventually kill if they hadn’t found him in time, but all Derek wanted to take away from this was that he didn’t.

“I easily could’ve…and you.”

Derek’s raised his eyebrows as he shrugged, “We wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“Would you have much of a choice? –“

“Isaac, I told you there was a price, I warned you about what you would have to go through when you chose to accept this –“

“I know –“

“Well then you know that I’m only trying to help you. You need me if you want to know how to control it, especially on a full moon.” Derek said assertively, stepping into his space until he was hovering over him. “You’ll learn, but it’ll take time.”

Isaac eyes dropped to the floor, taking in his options as he sat there in silence, biting his lip. This was all so new to him, that it was overwhelming and he wondered if there was more he should be worried about. Were there more enemies for them besides the hunters?

Derek sighed as he began to walk towards the door, stopping in his tracks when Isaac seemed he was going to speak up, but he didn’t. “We can start tomorrow if you want. It’s your call.” Derek spoke calmly. He’d though he heard a faint _thank you_ from behind him before leaving Isaac alone with his thoughts.

Derek padded towards his bedroom, wincing at the amount of pain he still felt from the stab wound located on his shoulder that hadn’t completely healed yet. The blade had been buried deep, preventing his healing ability to kick in instantly after the blow, which he certainly hadn’t expected. It was only his fault for dropping his guard for a split second. Peter had volunteered to - less than gently – remove it, smiling sadistically as he yanked the blade with one hard pull before he then inspected the knife, running a delicate finger along it, taking note of the writing engraved onto the blade, while Derek couldn’t care less as he forcefully shut his mouth to prevent any noises escaping him as he felt the sensation of his skin healing over, layer after layer.

He made sure to avoid Peter at all costs before he slammed the door behind him as soon as he entered his room. Leaning back against it the wood and throwing his head back as he exhaling slowly. So much had happened in one night, actually, no, not much had happened in one night, but rather something so significant that he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his head for the entire night. He assumed it would be one of those nights, where his mind would not settle for him to actually sleep. And now that he finally had a bed, he intended to use it.

Peter had been right though, if he hadn’t of intervened, Derek was sure he would be dead, and possibly him and Isaac. He was also right about the fact that there was a purpose to sparing the hunter, but that bit of detail he was not intent on sharing with his psychotic uncle, or anyone else for that matter. Although, he knew that hunter was no Argent. It wasn’t their scent, which made him curious to just who he was, because if he wasn’t associated with the Argents, then who was he with? And were there more of them? Derek groaned in frustration as he dragged a hand down his face. He was so exhausted and there was no chance he was going to get any sleep tonight, which will undoubtedly put him in a mood tomorrow, much to his disdain. Derek stripped down and changed until he was left in his grey, loose trousers. He threw the covers back before climbing into bed, rolling onto his side where his window had the perfect or cursed view of the moon, almost taunting him as he tried to drift off into sleep.

 

 

 

***

 

It had taken a couple of hours, but they were finally settled into the cabin. It always felt like a holiday home, at least Stiles thought so. He half expected to leave the building and be met with the spacious, peaceful feel of the countryside, fields of sheep and cows stretching for miles, along with the roads.

Stiles was lying on his bed, staring up at the bottom of Allison’s bed. Yes. They had to have double-beds. On the upside, the room was spacious in itself, but it made him feel eleven years old again, waking up in the middle of the night to the loud sound of creaking wood, that fear in the back of his mind that the top bunk could collapse on him at any moment, despite what anyone said. They had approximately an hour before the campfire started and for some reason, Allison wanted to make an effort as she sat cross legged on her bed, adjusting her hair.

Stiles lifted his legs and nudged the bottom of her bed with his feet, making the bed bob up a little, undoubtedly making Allison bob up too. He smirked before doing it again, a little more forcefully this time, and he heard her sigh deeply before just for the hell of it, he did it again.

“Stop it” She warned, leaning over the side, staring down at him.

“Stop what?” Stiles asked innocently, looking to the side as he rocked a little, trying to get himself comfortable.

Allison sighed with annoyance but he saw the small flash of a smile as she resumed her preparation. He pushed up again.

“You’re doing it again.” She said, half-laughing as she stared him down. She was between irritated and amused as she reached down to smack his foot, but he had them both thrown back onto the mattress, twirling them in taunt.

“I’m not doing anything, my feet are down.” He gestured to his feet before cracking a smile at her as she leant back again. Stiles frowned above him as he scoffed, fidgeting onto his side, resting his head against his hand, “Christ, Allison. This isn’t a dinner party.”

“Doesn’t kill to make an effort.”

“For who? We’re hunting”

“I am aware of that–“

“Then why all the preparation? Who is there to impress? You think some hunk is gonna show up to one of our hunts?”

“For your sake, they better.” Allison smiled as Stiles kicked the bottom of her bed again.

Stiles didn’t have a clue what the time was, but he assumed it was close to midnight as his felt his energy drain a little and his eyelids begin to feel heavy as he rocked and rolled on the bed impatiently. It was probably due to the lack of sleep he had because of that night he couldn't get out of his head. Which he still marks as one of the weirdest, most confusing encounters he’s ever had. But thankfully, he hadn’t seen any trace of the pack since and maybe that was for the best, as if he _had_ gotten another chance, he probably wouldn’t be as fortunate this time. But the curiosity was still there, was always there, buried beneath him, eating him from the inside at the urgency for answers, but he tried to ignore it for the time being. Stiles required focus tonight.

There was a sudden knock at the door before Chris peered his head through the crack hesitantly. He shared a look between them, before he gestured for them to follow him outside where everyone was gathering. The air was not as cold as Stiles thought, but the chill was evident every time he approached the fire before he had to turn away again as he helped with the gathering of wood, while a muscular man began chopping near them. More and more people joined the group every passing minute. It seemed it would be a good turn out tonight.

The crackling of the fire before them was calming enough. The glowing embers leaped and twirled in a fiery dance, twinkling like stars in the hot swirling air. The withstand-able scent of smoke reeked in his nostrils, the dizzying radiant heat from the blazes pulled him in deeper as he got closer, before perching on a log around the outside. He couldn’t help but watch on as a couple of men kept feeding the flames, chucking wood onto the fire as sparks of ember scattered around them, falling gracefully to the ground.

The fire was surprisingly bigger this time, illuminating the area around them, but also making the rest of the woods pitch black to the eye. This strongly reminded him of camps, especially ones he had with his father. He assisted with keeping the fire ablaze for a second before the heat became too unbearable, his face burning up as his eyes started to water.

He stepped out of range of the flames and sat back down on the log again, staring into the burning abyss, before he heard someone calling him his name, or rather, someone cooing his name. As Stiles stood, he was met with the elder’s wife, Maria. She instantly wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, before pulling back to cup his cheeks. Stiles didn’t particularly like the lack of personal space here.

He looked down, away from her eyes as she kissed his cheek, “Oh, Chris, this poor child must be traumatized!” Maria looked behind her at Chris who was approaching them. She suddenly hugged Stiles’ head against her chest. Stiles grunted as he stepped out of her hold, forcing a smile across his lips.

“I’m alright.”

His smile dropped instantly into an unamused look as he brushed shoulders with Allison who had stood by, watching. He didn’t need to ask, his expression probably said the whole thing as she shrugged in response. She’d told them and he bet that in her version he came across as a poor helpless victim. The other hunters were gestured to sit around the fire with their weapons while Maria rushed back inside to fetch old man; Earl.

As usual, Allison and Stiles sat next to each other, opposite from Chris who always liked to keep an eye on them during the talk, actually hoping that they were paying attention as apparently Chris had thought it was good education for them. All the attention was directed towards Earl who, with assistance from Maria, was approaching them gradually. Once his seat was set up, he carefully sank onto it, eyes directing from one person to another before leaning back into his chair.

“Better turn out than last week.” Earl commented, “Has Chris been talking?” He half smiled.

Chris’ mouth turned upwards as he ducked his head, casting a quick glance in Stiles and Allison’s direction who were both nodding at him.

“I suppose I’ve already told you about the old stories, about our ancestors?” Earl asked.

“Frequently...” Stiles mumbled under his breath which earned him an elbow to the rib from Allison and a quick scowl from Chris. He didn’t know if the elder man heard him and chose to ignore it or whether he generally didn’t hear him, but either way, he continued.

“Well, there is this one story…” he started, “About the very first generation of hunters, in fact, the very first hunter known to mankind. And also the origin of the beast we hunt today.”

 _Oh. Stiles had actually never heard this one before._ He scooted closer to the edge of the log, closer to Earl, prepared to listen intently as he continued.

“There was a creature. A creature that lurked in the shadows of the night. It devoured souls of the innocent, making it grow stronger the more souls it feasted on. It was an abomination, a beast that was known as the ‘introduction de la mort’- 'the bringer of death', as the natives believed that once a being stumbles upon this creature of darkness, within a dream or in life, they were doomed to die…”

 Earl glanced a look at each of the members before he continued, leaning forward in his seat.

“Over the years, there had been more sightings, locals describing the beast as tall as a man, insisting it walked like a man; featuring all the qualities within each human. The locals became obsessed, believing the beast to be half man and half wolf, where the name ‘Rougarou’ or more commonly referred to as the ‘Loup-garou’ had originated from, translated as ‘Werewolf’.”

Stiles shifted, leaning forward to get a better view of the elder.

“And so, there was a man, a man who belonged to a large populated village where his people lived in peace. Until, one day when he was hunting for food, miles away from his village, there was a massacre. Every last one of the villagers was killed, his entire family, his wife and daughters; gone. He was the only survivor. He had known of the wolf, it was a story told down through generations and so, in an act to seek vengeance, he trained himself, perfected his skills, year after year until he felt ready to confront the beast who had taken everything away from him…So on the night of the full moon, where the beast was seen to be at its peak of power, did the hunter confront it. He was fearless and skilfully mastered, but the werewolf was stronger. They fought for a long period of time, a determined fight to the death. That’s when the hunter witnessed the inevitable glow of blood red eyes..”

Stiles lifted his head and stared into the flames as he remembered his encounter with the Alpha the night before, listening intently to the words passing his lips.

“The Alpha showed no mercy. Striking him repeatedly, practically tearing the poor man apart, but he still had that fighting spirit, that determination, and do you know what happened next?” The older man asked, “The hunter dug his last arrow through its heart, before giving him the killer blow. Only the Alpha did not know of the specially carved arrow that contained Wolfsbane, which had killed the best an hour later…” Earl paused again as he watched everyone’s reactions, eyes, then trained on Stiles who was still staring into the fire. It felt Stiles was screaming from the inside considering how tense he looked. “The hunter eventually had his revenge but at a sacrifice. And they say, that encounter alone, started the internal war between man and beast. So you see lads, the wolves were born as our enemy, and our enemy they will remain until the end of time itself...”

Words could not describe the turmoil he had in his mind, listening to the whole story, about the Alpha killing the hunter without hesitation, by pure instinct and yet it didn’t make sense. Because he was _still alive!_ He was _spared._ And on a full moon too, surely that would have been a reason alone why he would have been slaughtered. Tonight had created a whole new conflict for him and he needed to be alone to process it before the actual hunting took place in a few minutes.

Stiles didn’t bother to ask if he could be excused as he instantly rose from his seat and stalked towards their cabin, ignoring Chris and Allison’s calls behind him. He thought one of them would at least pursue him so he was surprised when he stopped or physically restrained, although he was certain someone would follow him into his room eventually, but for now, everyone else was blocked out as he had dozens of thoughts rushing through his brain as he felt a migraine starting to throb, causing him to wince.

 _What the hell was this?_ Do some Alpha’s experience a case of morality? Was this suddenly how this was going to go, that single encounter having to complicate his entire outlook on werewolves?

He would never believe that the werewolf spared him out of the goodness of his heart. That was bullshit. But something was going on, and he was even determined than before to find out what...

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more action in this chapter. Enjoy. And thank you for the comments, as your feedback is what keeps me going.
> 
>  
> 
> **Follow me on Tumblr for updates and snippets: http://into-the-fire5.tumblr.com/**

* * *

 

Stiles had barely touched the fabric of his bed when someone stormed into his room, slamming the door behind them. This was so messed up, he couldn’t think straight anymore.

“What the hell was that?” Allison interrogated, hands on her hips as she glared down at him.

Stiles remained silent as his jaw tensed, staring down at his fingers. There wasn’t an explanation for why he left, he was just overwhelmed with all of it that he needed a breather, but clearly he wasn’t going to get much privacy. Stiles risked a quick glance up at her with tired eyes, but regretted it instantly when she stalked closer.

“I don’t- I don’t know…” He mumbled honestly, fidgeting and rubbing his head.

Allison tilted her head so she could make eye contact with him, before she bit the inside of her cheek and sighed deeply. She had an idea of what this was about as she dropped onto the bed, sitting next to him with her hands in her lap. Stiles peered up at her again.

“You’re dwelling on this too much.” Allison stated as she spoke assertively.

Stiles’ brow furrowed in confusion, like she was the strangest person alive as he huffed in offence. “I’m dwelling on it too much?” He shot her an offended look as he shook his head, “I recall Chris saying something along the lines of –“

Allison sighed as she rolled her eyes, standing up and stalking across the room with her arms folded, before turning back to him with an assertive look.

“’- Things like that don’t happen, Stiles, even given the circumstances’. So, _what does this mean?”_ Stiles’ voice rose as he threw out his hands in frustration. “This is messing with my head, Allison. It’s like when my dad was on a case and he couldn’t figure out vital information even though he knew the answer was staring him in the face. It’s like that.” Stiles spoke softly, almost a whisper as he looked out of the window.

Allison remained silent as she considered him for a moment, planning to speak when Stiles beat her to it.

“Call me stubborn, sure. But I know I’ll never get this out of my head if I don’t know why I’m still living and breathing.” Stiles said sharply as his gaze lingered on the fire that had gradually grown since he left.

“Well, then…” Allison started, earning her a curious gaze, “I guess I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for…”

He knew it wasn’t an approval; that she still wasn’t convinced by his story, but it was the best he was going to get as he gave her a small, sincere smile.

“But don’t do anything that’s going to get you killed” Allison said sharply, pointing a finger in his direction.

Stiles rolled his eyes as he huffed, leaning forward to adjust his boots when he noticed movement outside, the fire gradually fading. They were finally preparing to hunt, which is what Stiles had been looking forward to since they arrived.

“It’s starting” Stiles simply stated, gesturing outside the window.

Allison approached the window to glance outside, noticing the lone figure approaching their cabin and she was sure it was Chris coming to check on them both, or to have a tirade, or probably both. Allison reached for her coat and began preparing also, grabbing her bow and arrow before opening their door to leave, only to find Chris in the doorway.

He looked between them, eyeing them cautiously before looking behind Allison at Stiles. “You alright?”

Stiles seemed taken aback that Chris wasn’t lecturing him, although optimism is a dangerous thing, as he was sure something like it would occur when him and Chris were not in the company of others. “Yeah…” Stiles replied, feeling the need to say something else on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m…sorry, I-“ _Ok._ So he didn’t know how to explain it to him at this point, but that seemed enough for him because Chris simply nodded at him, strangely dismissing the situation.

“We’re heading out” Chris stated before giving them both a final look and walking down the hallway, expecting them follow.

Stiles’ surprise did not go unnoticed as he glanced in Allison’s direction, who shrugged at him before heading outside.

 

***

 

“Alright boys...” A well-built man started, strong and intimidating, as everyone gathered in a horseshoe around him, weapons at the ready. “You know the drill, be back here in two hours.” The atmosphere became quiet when he glanced between Stiles and Allison and chuckled light-heartedly. “How about for the youngsters, we make it a competition.” He smirked.

Stiles smirked back as he looked to Allison next to him, eyebrows raised as his face turned smug. Allison only returned the same expression.

“First one back here with an _intact_ doe within the two hours.”

The others mumbled and agreed amongst themselves as well as playful threats passed among each other before a gun was fired from afar and everyone dashed into the woods. It was like everyone was running into the crossfire, like they were soldiers within a war, which in some cases they all were, but Stiles never got used to the sight of it all. Besides, everyone here was an expert.

Stiles raced in the opposite direction of Allison, heading to the deepest and more silent parts of the wilderness, as he knew that was where his prey was really located. As an added bonus, there was also a beautiful lookout area, with a small stream nearby. If the night hadn’t turned into a competition, he definitely would have spent a few lonely minutes there just staring at the stars. It was another area that he found peaceful.

As he ran further and further away from the site, the silence became almost too heavy for his ears. Stiles suddenly began to tread carefully, avoiding twigs or anything else that would snap instantly to his added weight. He suddenly thought he heard something in the distance, lowering himself slightly and raising his crossbow in the direction of the inevitable footfalls growing louder and louder with each second. Although, something was wasn’t right as the sounds didn’t resemble the gentle steps he expected a deer to have. It must have been another hunter, which was lucky for them, since he had been so close to shooting. That really would not have resulted well.

Stiles wandered further, wanting separation from everyone else so he could concentrate and also to reduce the chance of one of them claiming the prize even when it was in his sights. He didn’t even realise until he stumbled across it, that the overhanging trees like a veil seemed very familiar.

He had somehow ended up in his favourite spot in this area, without even trying, like it was calling his name, luring him in. Stiles sighed, relaxing slightly before he heard a distinct _snap_ from behind him. Stiles whipped around, raising his crossbow instantly, finger hovering over the trigger, just in case.

However, there wasn’t a reoccurring sound after that, but he had noticed the shadow lingering within the trees, just…standing there as if waiting.

“Didn’t think anyone else would be out here...” Stiles began as he lowered his weapon, “We’re pretty far from camp”

The figure huffed, almost in shock or unpleasant surprise as it began retreating into the trees and Stiles felt the eyes on him, never leaving his face.

“Dude?” Stiles asked with slight concern.

A shot was suddenly fired nearby and it honestly scared the crap out of Stiles that he jumped a bit, but he wasn’t the only one. Whoever was with him started growling and in that exact moment, Stiles witnessed the haunting glow of its eyes, the crimson making something in Stiles panic. _Actually_ panic.

“Oh, crap” Stiles hissed as he began to raise his weapon again.

Another shot was fired and it snarled this time, in his direction, completely caught off guard when it suddenly lunged for him, teeth exposed. Stiles cursed again as he pulled the trigger, hearing the contact of the arrow with its skin, but it was merely brushed off as the creature still collided with his body, only to find that it hadn’t aimed for Stiles’ throat at all, but instead he felt a strong hand push him with such force that he instantly fell to the ground, crossbow slipping out of his grip as he grunted. Stiles’ heart was thundering in his ears as he looked to his side to find his crossbow almost within reach as he outstretched his arm, straining and grunting as he continued to try and retrieve it, until his muscles felt over-stretched, not expecting the agony he sudden felt in his leg.

Panic washed over him when he noticed the blood dripping down his leg, fearing he may have just been bitten, but when he looked down to inspect, it wasn’t a bite, instead, it was a bullet wound.

Stiles’ brow furrowed into a frown, as he noticed the werewolf was still looming over him; arms braced on either side of his face as he listened to it inhale and exhale raggedly. It wasn’t his fault that his heart did stupid things when the werewolf suddenly lifted its head for a split second; glowing red eyes boring into Stiles’ amber ones, before it suddenly tore itself away from him. Again, with the proximity, it was starting to irritate him. Stiles started to feel dizzy from the blood loss, as his head fell back again, vision blurred as his leg began to throb painfully.

As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he heard shuffling and he could have sworn he saw a firm hand pressed against his wound as he felt a - he couldn’t describe it well – _draining_ sensation, like he was being slowly drained of _something._ Stiles felt the pain gradually dissipate, before everything around him faded.

Stiles slowly peeled his eyes open, expecting to be lying on his bed from another weird dream, but he was met with the cold atmosphere of the woods, staring up at the night sky. He groaned as he began to move, attempting to get up, when a firm hand pressed against his chest and shoved him back down.

Stiles growled in pain, “What the _hell?_ ” his eyes darting down, only for his entire body to freeze with what they stumbled upon.

“Don’t move.”

Stiles scrambled backwards, hands reaching for the tree behind to try and steady myself as his heavy eyes darted around him. He suddenly felt a stab of pain in his leg that travelled over his body as he cried out in agony.

“I said ' _don’t move'_ ”

His crossbow was nowhere in sight, and he could barely move, so there was no way he would win this fight, but that never stopped him before. “Get the _fuck_ away from me…” Stiles hissed, scowling at the werewolf who was paying too much attention to his wound. It was unnerving.

As Stiles watched him cautiously, he noticed his eyebrows drawn in consideration and it seemed he was going to reach out for his leg again, so Stiles whipped his leg away as fast as he could, before the Alpha's fingers even brushed the hairs that were reacting to the cold. Stiles gritted his teeth as he hissed loudly, restraining a pitiful whimper. “I said get away from me –“

“Don’t move your leg like that, you’ll trigger the bleeding again –“

Stiles wanted to lash out and kill him before he took advantage of the situation. Stiles was defenceless after all and couldn't even move, but he also wanted to ask what happened, how he ended up with a bullet wound, but his mind was doing somersaults as it felt he was experiencing a weird dream or something. He glanced down to inspect his leg, only to find that most of the skin had already healed over. Stiles slowly moved his leg, cringing, but he couldn’t feel any remains of shrapnel from the bullet inside, which puzzled him to end, before he began to glare at accusingly.

“They should find you here.” A low but calm voice brought him back to reality. Stiles watched as the werewolf avoided his eyes and instead paid attention to the atmosphere around them, undoubtedly on high alert for the other hunters.

“What the hell did you do with my crossbow?” Stiles spat, glaring into his eyes that seemed in their normal state. _Hang on._ He recognised those… _oh shit._

“Figured it out?” He sneered.

“What the – It’s not a coincidence that you showed up here is it?” Stiles spoke firmly, resting his hand on his other leg.

Derek’s scowl intensified.

“You going to kill me then?” Stiles spat.

“...Debatable.” Derek’s eyes roamed down his body, eyes lingering on his wound, ”But considering all the time and effort it took for me to heal you, I’d rather not waste my remaining energy.”

“Bullshit. You didn’t heal me.”

“You haven’t bled out yet…” He retaliated.

“Yeah, and you better get out of here _now_ if you don’t want to” Stiles growled, noticing the hint of a smirk playing across the Alpha’s lips, but he ignored it as he shifted.

“What the hell are you doing here anyway? If not to silence me. Considering there are hunters practically everywhere, I thought around here would the last place you’d be…” Stiles babbled. _Wait, what are you doing?_ _Why the hell are you making conversation with this guy?_

“I didn’t know this area was occupied…” Derek mumbled.

“You’re a _werewolf_ aren’t you? Aren’t your senses supposed to be heightened?” _Seriously, stop talking. Stop it!_

Derek’s eyes wandered to his before snapping them away from him again, looking around them. “Something must have blocked them out…” he mumbled.

Stiles may not have those senses like this guy does but he could tell that was only half the truth, although the guy did actually look confused.

Stiles was about to threaten him again to go as he heard the other hunters draw nearer, then realisation hit him. Now that he had the werewolf here with him, as long as they remained quiet to anyone around them, Stiles planned to interrogate. “What happened?”

“You were shot.”

Stiles huffed in aggravation, “You know exactly what I’m referring to.”

Derek lifted his head, his eyes instantly meeting with his which caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure how to go about this. “I hesitated.”

 _Of course_. “Bullshit. I thought you guys never hesitate when it comes to killing, especially us.”

Stiles watched as something changed in his eyes, they darkened; powerful and threatening which made it increasingly difficult to keep eye contact, without backing into a corner. He admitted it was an intimidating stare, one that could put anyone in their place.

“I could say the same thing about you.” Derek said sharply.

Stiles’ brow furrowed as his jaw tensed. That one took him off guard and he couldn’t think of a suitable response, so he settled for the alternative and just glared at him in silence. He was still intimidating to a degree.

A sudden shout was heard nearby and the Alpha looked as if he was planning on moving, hesitating once again, until he suddenly straightened himself and looked _straight at him_ from above. Stiles suddenly felt very vulnerable and almost cowered in on himself under that intense stare. The Alpha made to move and something in Stiles just burst out, unable to prevent himself from talking and at times, he really hated himself for that.

“Wait.” Stiles began, shocked when the werewolf actually stopped and waited for him to finish. “If you wanna get out of here with your limbs still intact, I suggest going that way and keep heading West.” Stiles lifted his arm and pointed in the direction, watching as the werewolf followed his outstretched arm.

The Alpha stared back at him with widened eyes, which fair enough, was the reaction he’d expected since Stiles didn’t have a clue with what he was doing either.

“There shouldn’t be any hunters over there now; they’ve pretty much left the perimeter.” Stiles advised.

The Alpha’s eyebrows shot high on his forehead, as he stared at him in belief.

“Don’t make this anything more than it is, ‘cos it’s nothing alright? If I had my weapon, I would have shot you by now” Stiles warned, frowning “Consider this as me returning the favour, because there’s no way in hell that I’m going to be in debt to a werewolf for the rest of my life.” He sneered, before wincing.

The werewolf continued to stare before nodding once and obeying his instructions, darting off into the distance until his shadow gradually began blending in with the darkness of the trees.

It only just struck him then what he had just done.

Stiles was about to curse at himself when several people surrounded him, almost completely blocking the outside world from his vision. People were crowding him, hovering over him, with nothing but panicked voices filling his ears, until he heard Chris’ voice order them to retreat from him to give him some air.

Chris leaned down in front of him, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder, so he would look him in the eyes.

“Oh, _Jesus_.” Another man started, panic flooding his voice, “Stiles, lad. I’m – I’m so –“ He paused when the others instantly looked in his direction.

Stiles glanced up at him to, waiting for him continue as he winced again, trying to get up, but Chris stopped him.

“I – I saw the werewolf and I thought you were- that you were one too –“

“A _werewolf?_ ” Chris snapped his head up at him, frowning, not necessarily at the other hunter, but still frowning.

The other hunter nodded as he exchanged looks between Stiles and Chris. “An Alpha, I saw the eyes.” He finished.

Chris’ frown intensified, “Why would it come here?” His stare turned on Stiles. “Is that what you saw too?”

Stiles hesitated, glancing at the ground, and without another thought he shook his head slightly before shrugging, “I don’t know what I saw, I blacked out, I just – I don’t know, I don’t remember.” He babbled, flailing his hands in frustration as he tried to sound as convincing as possible, while he rubbed the back of his head.

“Then how come – if Carl shot you, how is it already healed over so much?” Stiles heard another concerned voice.

 _Oh, crap_. He stilled as he tried to think of something. “I don’t think he actually shot me, I mean, it just looks grazed to me…” Stiles stated, moving his leg slightly.

Chris’ eyes never left him as he sighed slowly, “Other than that, you’re alright?”

Stiles nodded as he grunted, “Yeah”

Chris sighed again, this time with relief, “Good. Here, we’re getting you patched up.” He explained as he gently wrapped Stiles’ arm around his shoulders and slowly raised him off of the ground.

The other hunters gradually followed, while others made their way back to the campfire. Stiles cried out as his foot stubbed against something, sending a sharp pain to travel through his whole leg, making him shiver.

Chris looked over at him with concern as he readjusted them slightly, “You alright, kid?”

 _No, not really,_ but he nodded anyway.

“Stiles, if you want I can –“

“If you’re thinking of carrying me bridal style, forget it.” Stiles shot, unable to resist a smile at Chris’ half-hearted chuckle that followed. He always felt a sense of pride in himself when he made Chris laugh.

Chris smirked, “Actually, I was going to suggest I carry you over my shoulder”

Stiles scoffed, looking at Chris, “No way”.

They both started laughing.

 

***

 

Chris, Allison and a couple of other hunters stayed the whole time Stiles was being patched up, wrapping a bandage around his wound before helping him lie on his bed. Stiles wasn’t fond of all the attention is he was getting as they all stared at him with concern.

Stiles sighed; it was just his luck that something like this would happen. Someone up there had it in for him, he was sure of it, tormenting him, taunting and teasing every time he came close to answers. Out of all the years he’s been involved in this, not once has he been shot by another hunter, never. But again, he was great with luck and it was all because of that goddamn werewolf, which he had just _willingly_ let escape. God, he couldn’t regret it any more if he wanted to. Now he’s just opened up a new level of trouble, especially if someone finds out. Maybe an onlooker. Someone who they both didn’t notice was around at that point, since the werewolf admitted begrudgingly that his senses were pretty poor. What a joke.

Through his analysis, he hadn’t noticed that Chris and Allison were the last ones remaining in his presence.

“You don’t have to stay.” Stiles stated, hoping not to sound too dismissive.

“We want to” Chris replied, giving him a look that suggested he wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon as he perched in the chair beside the bed.

“Well, I’m not exactly going to river dance for you.”

Allison rolled her eyes, while Chris tried to hide his smile but failed.

“Actually, I do need to check on the others, but I can stay if you want me to.” Chris stated, evidently hoping Stiles would ask him to stay.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure Carl’s really beating himself up.”

“Yeah. Most likely.” Chris smiled as he left the room, leaving only Stiles and Allison, and the awkward silence that made Stiles increasingly uncomfortable.

Allison remained silent as she sauntered around the room and sat on the empty chair, crossing her legs before raising her eyebrows at him.

Stiles stared at her in confusion, “What? Are you really expecting me to do a dance for you?”

“No. I wanna know why you lied.” Allison replied instantly, sounding almost offended.

“Huh?”

“Back out there, you may have convinced the others, but not me… and maybe not even Chris but he’s not pressing the subject further for now. I know you too well, Stiles.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stiles, why can’t you be honest with me? You’ve told me everything before…”

Stiles hushed her urgently as he gestured towards the door until Allison eventually got the message. She got up to close the door gently and leaned against it until Stiles gave a short breath, a kind that indicates speech.

“I couldn’t say anything, you know I couldn’t. I would have been just been told that I was obsessed or something, which granted, I may be slightly, but still." Stiles started to get defensive but he paused when Allison raised her eyebrows in waiting. "Yes, alright," sighing with defeat, "there was a werewolf –“

“ _Stiles –_ “

“And here’s the kick to the balls, it was the same guy from before, you know when I managed to get away last time.”

“Oh my god” She spoke softly as she lowered herself back into the seat. “The same –“

“The same.” He clarified.

“What did he do – What did _you_ do?”

“Tried to put one between his eyes, but then that’s when we both heard a shot and he –“ Stiles paused, groaning to himself that he was yet to tell Allison something else he knew she wouldn’t believe.

“He what?”

“He pinned me to the ground” he smirked slightly as Allison’s eyes widened; hopefully she wasn’t taking this out of context. “And sort of _shielded_ me from the other shots.”

“ _Sort of_ shielded you? Or shielded you?”

Stiles pouted, “He leaned over me with his body, pinning me to the ground so that I wouldn’t move, is that clear enough?”

Allison frowned, as she processed the information she had just gained. “But you still got shot” She said slowly, sounding unsure.

“Something tells me I would’ve been shot someplace way worse if he hadn’t lunged towards me. Hell, I could be dead right now.” Stiles huffed; again, this is really starting to sound ridiculous.

Allison shook her head, no doubt thinking the same thing as Stiles as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, unsure of what to do or say.

“And then I let him go…” Ah. Maybe he shouldn’t have let that one slip so easily.

“You what?!”

“I let him go”

“No, I heard you the first time, but you let him go just like that? Why?”

“I don’t know!” Stiles began to get defensive. He noticed her look. “What? He saved me, whether you’re willing to accept that or not, and I couldn’t find my weapon anywhere near me anyway, as much as I wanted to shoot the guy and be done with it.”

Allison dragged a hand down her face slowly as she sighed deeply, clearly overwhelmed by all of this and she wasn’t the only one here.

“Well, this goes down as my worst night at hunting…” Stiles states, earning him a small chuckle from Allison, who inhaled sharply afterwards.

“No doubt.” She simply said, before looking him over again. “You realise we’re staying the night because of this, right?”

Stiles groaned loudly as his head slammed back onto the pillows.

 

***

 

Derek’s heart was pounding; frantic as he kept running. He only glanced back once, when he felt he was far away enough, not certain if it was to ensure he wasn’t being followed, or whether he was just overwhelmed at the scene before him moments ago. Derek had honestly intended for a few hours of peace and solace as he arrived at that particular spot. It triggered memories he once created there with his sister Laura when they were young, it was her favourite spot. She had said that she was always curious and mesmerised by the amount of fireflies that claimed it for their own, along with the view of the entire town from afar. When everything became tense and too troublesome at home, Laura and he would always retreat to this place until it settled. It was almost like a second home.

The reason alone was a possibly as to why it was invaded by another hunter, as fate had a habit of messing with him. Especially since it was the same hunter from before, who had nearly slaughtered his pack. Small town.

However, there was something else that lured him out there. An overpowering scent that invaded his sinuses until everything else seemed to completely fade. It had been so inviting and it had embraced him instantly until Derek was unable to resist searching. It had smelt like summer and warmth and… _like home._ Although, he noticed the scent only intensified when that young hunter… Derek growled in frustration as he forcefully pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind that was currently in turmoil, cursing to himself.

The need to be on high alert slowly faded as the pack’s temporary hideout came into view, the upper level stretching high, way higher than a regular house. The idea was to be discrete, remain distant from town, but not too distant to attract attention or suspicion. It was a merely 15 minute walk to the nearest neighbourhood.

He suddenly freezes when he spots the smashed and shattered windows.

“Oh, no…” Derek whispers in horror, eyes slowly widening in fear; in sudden realisation.

He rushed to the front door that had been knocked completely off its hinges, before he halted; taking in all the glass shards and empty bullet shells cascaded around him. Derek itches, as he wants nothing more than to call out for them, for even a hint that Peter and Isaac are still alive, but he restrains himself; instead, choosing to tread cautiously inside. He made sure to tick to the shadows of each room as he searched for them.

“They can’t have gone far” A sharp voice broke the silence as Derek carefully approached the doorway, focusing on the voices echoing down the corridor. “Use your heads boys.” The female sighs, “Why do I have to deal with guys like you who have the IQ of a beetroot?”

There isn’t a real reason why the woman’s voice makes his skin crawl and blood boil, it just does.

The other two men looked to each other and nodded simply, before they began another sweep of the house, determined to find the remains of Derek’s pack. Derek crept backwards, almost retracing his steps to calm himself before he did something reckless, something he’ll regret no doubt, but he soon stiffened when he heard the creak of wood nearby. As much as he loathed the idea, he retreated to the shadow and hid. For now.

“Where are you, you little bastards?” a low, husky voice growled as a man dressed in dark, beaten clothes cautiously entered the room, gun held tight in his hands.

Derek’s breath hitched in his throat as the hunter turned the corner, angling himself while Derek crept slowly around him, eyes fixated on the target. However, nothing could prevent the weak, straining sound of the floorboards under his weight.

The guy whipped round in a heartbeat, training his weapon in Derek’s direction but he hesitated, eyes darting around the room as if confused where Derek was.

 _“Where are you?”_ The hunter growled again as he turned.

Derek saw an opportunity, his felt blood on fire as he leapt out of his hiding.

“Oh, _crap!_ ”

A hysterical scream echoed around the house, followed by a deadly silence that was bound to draw attention.

“Merl? What the hell was that?” Another voice called, cocking his gun as he wandered down the pitch-black corridor and towards the empty room. “Merl?” he peeked inside through the crack of the door that was left ajar, gently pushing it open, but to find nothing. There was no sign of a disturbance anywhere.

Derek breathed steadily, his chest elevating as he waited, lurking in the shadows, using his sight to his advantage.

“Are you even in here? _Merl?”_ he asked gently, almost a whisper, his feet crossing the threshold.

Derek couldn’t prevent the growl that escaped his lips as he lunged for him, baffled when he missed him completely. The hunter had dove to the ground and was now scrambling to his feet as a list of profanities tumbled out of him uncontrollably. Just as the guy found his feet again, Derek leapt to grab the arc of the door, swinging his legs to strike him in the chest with his feet, sending him flying across the room; slamming into the opposite wall with a loud thud, before sliding down slowly. With a sigh of annoyance, he dropped back to the floor with no effort and stalked towards him with dark eyes.

He scoffed. It amused him how hunters always claimed to be unafraid of the supernatural and yet he was, towering over one who was trembling and trying to get his feet again as he tried to get as far away from Derek as possible, his back hitting the wall. Derek lashed out to grip his neck, fingers digging into his throat as he dragged him up to his feet and higher until he was hovering over the floor, forcing out choking noises as he stared into Derek’s eyes with fear as he witnessed the gradual glow of red.

“How did you know about this place?” Derek snarled, the red of his eyes gradually fading to his normal hazel ones as they never left the guy’s face.

“I don’t know” As honest as it sounded, Derek didn’t believe him. He listened to his heartbeat; the thuds so heavy it seemed it was close to leaping out of his chest as Derek’s grip around his neck tightened, causing him to choke and splutter. “Wait, wait…I mean they knew about, but we were never informed. We just follow orders…they don’t tell us shit –“

“Who’s _they?_ ” Derek interrupted sharply.

The hunter’s lip quivered as he hesitated, shaking his head frantically, eyes forced shut from Derek’s intense glare “I can’t, I can’t –“

Something snapped within Derek as he slammed his back against the wall, his hold didn’t waver as his fingers dug more into his neck, pinning him down.

“Alright, alright, alright” he babbled, “They’re – the higher ranks, man. They say jump, we say how high and all that, like Lori who’s here with us –“

Derek expected a hand to clamp on his mouth as he stared on at Derek in horror, as if he had just revealed their entire motive. Derek feels the question slip off his tongue as he scowls. “Who else?”

There was a pause and a shudder before he spilled, “Before she died…Kate Argent was –“

Derek didn’t acknowledge anything else, or even listen to the end of that sentence as his blood turned at the mention of Kate. So she used to be a high rank hunter? That explains why she was able to call the shots and burn down people’s houses whenever she pleased. Even in death, she would somehow haunt him, along with what she did.

“ – but now her brother Chris has taken that position so…” he trailed off slowly as he watched Derek’s thoughts process.

 _Chris._ Of course. Derek’s been colliding with him as long as he can remember, as a taunt, as a painful reminder of what he can’t escape.

Strained breaths above him bring him back to reality as he released his hold on him, gently lowering him to a trembling mess on the ground. Although, he still had no clue where his uncle and Isaac were and considering that this group was still searching, neither did they. Perhaps if he were to catch their scent, he could then trace their movement.

Derek gave one last scowl in the hunter’s direction before swiftly and quietly making his way to Peter’s dorm. Like he expected, there wasn’t any sign of a struggle, no disturbance whatsoever and not able to find any loose clothing – a simple sock would have sufficed – or objects left behind; it was like everything had been cleared out. But how was that possible if they were both in a hurry to flee. Derek searched again, but there was nothing he could use as the stench of the hunters and their recently used weapons overpowered everything else. Still, he decided to make his way to Isaac room instead, stopping dead in his tracks when he spotted a hunter cut across the corridor, meeting up with another.

“We’ve done another scope of the house, and nothing” he informed.

“The other two are not back yet?” The female voice from earlier returned. Derek caught that her name was Lori. He remained perfectly still, waiting. “Oh, for God’s sake, how long do they need to check a couple of rooms?” Lori sighed exasperatedly.

“Maybe they ran into them? Or someone else?”

“They would have alerted me if they had.” She stated as she waved her radio in his face. “Never mind, I’ll find them myself.” Grumbling profanities under her breath.

Derek heard her footfalls and retreated behind the door in the frame until he saw her pass, making his way to Isaac’s room. He nudged the door open carefully, eyes directed instantly to the glint of metal wedged in the floor. He squinted in confusion until realisation hit him too late. As if on cue, the emitter released a high-pitched sound that vibrated and screeched right through him, a sharp pain filling his head. The noise was unbearable as Derek swiftly covered his ears, attempting to block it out and flee the room, but he felt his balance disappear as the sound continued to destroy his hearing. He instantly fell to his knees, forcing his eyes to shut, restraining himself from screaming out in agony before his strength left him completely as he collapsed to the ground in a heap. To add to his misfortune, he felt a sinister presence behind him, towering over him and he could feel the smirk playing across their lips as they watched the scene in front of them.

“Hello, Derek”

Derek eventually glanced up; viewing a woman with long, wavy hair that stretched far down her back, sharp features and a pair of cold, blue eyes scanning him, admiring the work of their devices.

The woman laughed suddenly, before making another amused noise, “I _knew_ you would come snooping.” She began to walk around him, “I’m sure you have no idea who I am since we haven’t met personally, but I was a friend of Kate’s back in the day. Lori.”

 _Christ_. She even looked like her.

“Although, she grew to be a bit of a bitch and we…simply parted ways, but I know all about you…” Lori smirked.

Derek scowled, his jaw tensing as his eyes of pure hatred fell on her face that still looked amused. Lori began circling him again, her boots treading dangerously close to him.

“If you’re looking for your pack, we have no idea where they are. They were gone before we could even get our hands on them.”

“Must be a first for you.” Derek spat.

Lori merely scoffed, and smirked again in his direction, arching an eyebrow. “More or less”

Derek struggled to move, the sound had thankfully stopped, but he felt immobilised. Not completely as he could still move certain areas, like his toes or fingers, but he just couldn’t get up from the floor. He felt too vulnerable.

“But then again,” she started, “We only planned to capture them to draw you out.” Lori smiled maliciously which made Derek sick to his stomach. “So I guess someone is on our side today”

Derek tried so _damn_ hard to shift away as Lori stalked towards him with a predatory look as she knelt down in front of him, forcing him to lock eyes with her as she whispered.

“The Argents will be glad we caught you…”

Derek’s breath hitched in his throat, where his heart also seemed to be located at this point as her words rattled around in his head. _The Argents were behind this? Why? What do they want this time?_

He heard more footsteps coming down the hall and appearing Lori with weapons in their hand, but they did nothing but watch as Lori smiled again maliciously, pulling out a vial which contained some sort of extraction from a plant. Derek’s eyes widened.

“You’re familiar with this particular Wolfsbane, right?” she asked, approaching him and following his struggled movements as he tried to prevent the scent from reaching him but Lori hovered the vial under Derek’s nose.

His efforts were too late by the time his vision became blurred and distorted, gradually fading to black...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is sorry for the wait. Please don't kill me...

 

* * *

 

The early hours of the morning was blinding as the bright light burst through the windows panes. Stiles felt the warm, welcoming heat on his face as he groaned and turned onto his side, throwing the covers over his face. He didn’t really sleep at all; instead drifting in and out of sleep, to the point where he couldn’t distinguish whether he was awake or asleep.

Much to his disdain, there was a gentle knock at the door, causing him to mumble under his breath as he grabbed a pillow and slammed it onto his head, hoping to muffle out the rest of the world. Stiles made a loud noise of protest when the knocks came again.

“What?” Stiles called out, his exhaustion evident in his voice.

“I wanted to see if you were awake” Stiles couldn’t really him them that well as his pillow was still covering his head, but he was able to make out what they had said.

“I am now.” He slurred as he tossed and turned.

There was a small pause that seemed longer than it was before the door slowly opened, like whoever it was, was hesitant to enter. Stiles expected to look upon the weary and concerned expression of Allison again, but instead he was met with the surprisingly soft expression of Chris. He appeared so calm and relaxed and Stiles hoped that wasn’t just a cover up.

Chris’s eyes wandered over to the scenery before them outside the window before he looked at Stiles, faint creases in his forehead as if he was deep in thought.

“You sleep alright?” Chris asked; concern sincere in his voice as he studied Stiles’ face.

Stiles merely shrugged as a brush off, but he knew that wasn’t enough for Chris so he answered. “Not really, but, enough I guess” he mumbled as he slowly sat up in bed, wincing at the heavy weight in his head. Stiles hated the morning, groggy feeling.

He saw Chris nod in acknowledgment as he wandered around the bed to sit in the empty chair that Stiles had forgotten was even there. Stiles knew Chris came here for a reason, and whatever it was, it looked like it was hanging on the edge of his tongue as his eyes flickered from Stiles’ face, to the wall behind him.

Chris’ lips twitched, “Carl sends his condolences.”

Stiles scoffed, “I hope someone told him that I’m tougher than that. A bullet in the leg isn’t gonna finish me.” He stated firmly before attempting to chuckle, only for it to turn into a wide yawn.

Chris seemed amused by that as he gave him a small smile, scooting closer. “If you’re not feeling up to it, we can always stay here and let you rest up.”

Stiles made a face. He didn’t want to stay here any longer if he was perfectly honest; it wasn’t that he hated this place, far from it really, but he refused to be the reason why Chris and Allison put their lives on hold in order for him to get better. Besides, he was feeling better anyway.

“What about school?” Stiles asked.

“I’ll call in, or Allison could tell them. Either way, they’ll understand”

Stiles pursed his lips in thought, “No, I can handle going – wait, does this mean I need crutches?”

Stiles began to frown when he noticed Chris’ _duh_ expression. He hated that look, unless Stiles was the one giving it. “Unless you think it’s suddenly healed overnight” Chris deadpanned.

Stiles grumbled, his lower lip sticking out a bit. He couldn’t help it. It was something he hadn’t grown out of yet.

“Fine” he forced out as he threw the covers off of him and turned towards Chris, swinging his legs around slowly as a rush of pain travelled up his injured leg.

“Wipe the drool of your chin…” Chris suddenly spoke, chuckling when Stiles’ hand instantly shot to his face and licked his fingers before rubbing his chin raw. Chris then rose from his seat to wrap his arm around Stiles’ shoulder, lifting him to his feet. Stiles cursed under his breath as he began hopping across the room with Chris’ assistance. This day officially sucked and he hadn’t even been awake an hour.

 

***

 

Stiles wished he could get used to the crutches. Chris had insisted on several practice sessions before finally taking him to High school. He occasionally got into the movement, but there were other times where he was thrown off balance - Allison always managed to catch him as she followed him from behind – which resulted with him colliding with his classroom door, stumbling through the doorway as it swung open, hitting the wall behind. His teacher – Miss Kennard – and his classmate’s eyes immediately fell on Stiles, but he only saw Scott staring at him with worried eyes as he tried to regain some balance. Allison placed a gentle hand on his back while she still clutched his backpack.

Stiles glanced apologetically at his teacher, “Sorry I’m late…” he mumbled.

“Of course Stiles, I understand. Have a seat.” She spoke calmly as she gestured to his empty seat next to Scott’s, whose eyes were transfixed on him.

As if she picked up on the way he was tense, disliking the amount of attention on him, she resumed the lesson while Allison assisted a reluctant Stiles into his seat. As he slowly sunk down, eyes darting from one person to another, Allison took the crutches from him and leant them against his table before making her towards her own seat.

Scott leaned over to him instantly. “Dude, what happened to you?”

Stiles’ brow furrowed, “I told you.”

“No you didn’t. You just sent me a text at _one in the morning_ saying; ‘Something’s come up, Scott. _Understatement._ I doubt I’ll be in tomorrow, or the day after that, or possibly the day after that…’”

“I don’t…” Stiles mumbled.

“Hang on, I’ve still got the message on my phone.”

“Ok, alright, I believe you” Stiles began to babble, when he noticed Scott reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He hesitated before leaning in close. “I got shot” he whispered.

Scott’s eyes immediately widened as his eyebrows shot high on his forehead, “You got shot?!” He whispered _loudly_ , causing some students to turn and look in their direction with wide eyes. Stiles felt like sinking into his seat.

Thankfully, someone above was on his side since the teacher didn't seem to catch onto the 'shooting' topic at hand as she turned, shooting them both a warning look before placing a finger against her lips. Either that, or she just wasn't overwhelmed one bit.

Scott turned back to Stiles when she continued writing on the board, “You got shot?” he repeated, quieter this time.

“I didn’t get into a fight or anything. It was an accident”

“But how the _-_?” Scott queried, realisation flashing across his face as he watched Stiles open and close his mouth several times in an attempt to answer. “Wasn’t last night one of your hunting nights?”

Stiles’ silence was enough of answer. He had always told Scott how careful they all were, how everyone there was experienced. It took a while for Scott to accept that but apparently all of that didn’t prevent what had happened, so Scott had every right to act smug and his eye roll didn’t go unnoticed.

“That’s what happens when you handle guns.” Scott mused, a hint of a smirk playing across his lips, which got Stiles all defensive.

“Quit thinking it was my fault.” Stiles shot back instantly as he started to laugh. "I'm always cautious with firearms."

“I know. I’m just trying _so hard_ not to say, ‘I told you so.’” He grinned.

Stiles scoffed as he smiled back, shoving at Scott’s shoulder as he tried to pay attention to the rest of their lesson.

Stiles didn’t know if it was the lesson or the lack of sleep he had last night, as he tried to refrain from blacking out. When students get bored, their minds drift so easily, as he noticed when glancing around the room. He's had his fair share of tedious lessons, but most of the time, with being a straight A student, he would make extra notes and references, completing his textbook work and then some. But for some reason, Stiles felt so unmotivated. It showed with the other students too as he watched notes being passed between tables, scrunched up paper thrown across the room and an incessant tapping beside him.

His head resting on his hand was dipping every so often as his eyelids felt heavy. Suddenly the bell rang in his ears as he jolted in his seat, grabbing his textbooks and worksheets and shoving them mercilessly into his backpack.

Allison and Scott stayed behind to help him, but he gave them a look as he gradually rose from his seat.

Stiles’ feet just crossed the threshold before someone called for him.

“You’re sure you’ll be able to catch up?” Miss Kennard asked.

“Yeah, totally” He replied, nodding his head at her.

“It’s good to see you on your feet already.”

“Technically, I’m not on my feet, yet, but I’m getting there.” He quipped, earning him an eye roll from all three of them.

“And you haven’t lost your humour…” she sighed exasperatedly, returning to her book, looking unimpressed.

Stiles eventually made it outside, making his way over to the table before slowly sinking down, looking displeased. Scott sat next to him while Allison remained opposite from them both, smiling over at Lydia who was found in a huddle of students outside the Chemistry building.

Stiles glanced around him, trying to get used this environment again after spending nights out in the wilderness. It was like two separate worlds he lived in. His not so innocent life as a High school student, and then there was his life as a hunter. He hoped the two worlds wouldn’t clash at any point as that would generate a whole new level of trouble.

As if someone above wanted to test his willpower, Stiles noticed Isaac Lahey stroll across the grounds before placing himself on an empty bench, unaware of the cruel glare he was receiving in Stiles’ direction. He shot daggers as Isaac lifted his head and stared directly at him. Stiles could tell he knew why he was behaving this way. Isaac had been the first werewolf he’d shot that night, the only one that was clearly out of control, as he remember the other two trying to restrain him. He could feel the smirk across Isaac’s face as if he could read his thoughts and Stiles felt his blood boil as his knuckles turned white.

The others didn’t seem to notice though, as his jaw tensed, forcefully break eye contact with him. Bastard.

“It shouldn’t take too long to heal.” Allison started, as Stiles immediately focused his attention on her.

Stiles huffed, “Need I remind you it was a gunshot wound.”

“Yes, I’m aware –“Allison suddenly paused, staring over Stiles’ shoulder. “Oh, give me a minute.”

Stiles and Scott followed her gaze curiously as she stomped over to the crowd of students that surrounded Lydia. They wondered if Lydia had made a silent call for help that only she could distinguish as Allison approached them. Stiles smirked in amusement as he glanced back at Scott, who was still transfixed on Allison who stood defiantly amongst them. Scott was oblivious to Stiles’ feeble attempts to gain his attention again.

Stiles rolled his eyes slowly as he dipped his head back in exasperation.  “Dude,” he began, “Can you please grow a pair and talk to her properly please? I can’t take this any longer…”

Scott perked up at that, undoubtedly wondering if it was that obvious. _It was. It really was._

“I can’t –“

“Yes you can. Come on, Scott –

“No. I mean _I can’t_. I don’t know – I mean don’t you find it weird?” Scott queried, rubbing the back of his head.

Stiles perked a quizzical eyebrow, “Define ‘weird’?”

“Well, she is…kind of like your sister –“

“She’s not my actual sister, Scott.” He quipped.

“Yeah, I know but-“

“Scott,” Stiles interrupted, scooting closer until Scott met his eyes before he continued. “I really couldn’t care less about it, alright? We’re cool. I just can’t take another day of your not-so-subtle pining and another conversation about how she’s the perfect girl for you.”

Scott’s lips twitched at that.

“Just…don’t give me any details, ok?” he stated, before grimacing at the thought.

Scott nodded in understanding before failing to hide a smirk. “Noted.”

Stiles followed Scott’s gaze over to Allison again, who was currently deep in conversation with Lydia. The other students had eventually scattered, no doubt due to Allison’s persuasion. It was the kind of resemblance to the Queen being overcrowded by the commoners so her knight in shining armour emerges to rescue her.

He suddenly remembered that Lydia’s class had a test first period, so it made sense. She had probably aced that test.

Looking at her now, a few years ago Stiles would have probably worn the same expression as Scott right now. His innocent crush on her in third grade had turned into a lifelong pine through year after year. He supposed he knew deep down, that it wouldn’t work, not how he wanted it to anyway but he was persistent and a 10 year fascination over someone was hardly going to disappear easily. Stiles then took to loving her from a distance. He had seen her with plenty of boys through the years but one that stood out was definitely Jackson.

However, it was when Lydia was alone, standing on her own two feet, focusing on herself, being one of the smartest students in the school - besides him - and charming everyone with her wit, that he noticed her more. However, eventually his feelings buried beneath dissipated; instead the two of them growing to become close friends. Which is where he found himself now, watching her with a fondness as she smiled at him from across the grounds before turning back to Allison.

Stiles snapped back to reality as he glanced in Scott’s direction again. “Though if you hurt her in any way, I’ll punch you in the head.” He half-joked.  

 

***

 

Derek’s head throbbed violently, his vision blurred as he lifted his head to a blinding light. He instantly squinted, growling low and deep in his throat. The air was cold and sinister around him, a heavy and overpowering stench of dampness made him grimace as his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness. Derek could make out the solid, metal structure of a door located across the room, which seemed to have been bolted. He then glanced at the walls surrounding him, before his eyes travelled up to the small windows, blocked with wood and barbed wire. It wasn’t until he jolted at a sudden gunshot in the distance that he noticed the wires wrapped around his wrists and his middle, restraining him. Derek grunted as he tested the strength of them; clenching his fists as he pulled.

Derek heard another shortly after and he grit his teeth as he struggled against the tight bounds, trying to break free. However, he hesitated as a lone figure rose from their seat and faced towards him, adjusting to the light.

“Guys, he’s awake!” the guy called out in a low, rumbling voice.

Derek scowled at him before not even a minute later, the door was being pulled open, the straining sound of the metal scraping the floor made Derek flinch as an uncomfortable shiver travelled up his spine. A group of people entered, treading slowly and almost cautiously as one stepped further forward. The one that had crept closer seemed eerily familiar, since Derek could feel his skin crawl as they chuckled light-heartedly, or in irony.

“Home, sweet dump, right?”

In response, Derek glanced around him again; the walls that surrounded him seemed to feel like they were closing in as a shiver travelled up his spine.

“I hate to bring you back here, but,” Lori trailed off as she shrugged, creeping closer until she blocked the blinding light with her figure. “This was where we were instructed to bring you. Not our call.” She smiled maliciously then, her eyes dipping lower, roaming his form less than subtly before she turned away.

Derek’s own, dull heartbeat thundered in his ears, while his head continued to throb as he saw Lori whisper to one of her men.

He honestly didn’t know how much he could take of this, how much fate was willing to mess with him. Derek struggled initially after his family died in that fire, one that he always blamed on himself. The Argents were always known for their cunning nature, tactics, skills and prosperity. After that, it was him and Laura. Well, apart from his uncle Peter which he had no desire to be around, nevertheless he was family, he was blood. Derek looked up to Laura, especially when she began to transform into a wise, noble and powerful Alpha like their mother Talia. But when Laura was killed, it was like his world sunk into oblivion, dragging down any hopes of adjusting to a normal enough life again, and it never proved him otherwise. He would admit to himself several times if it made a difference, that he wanted a family, a pack again. He wanted to be an Alpha like his mother.

“What do you want?” Derek grunted, trying to regain his breath.

Lori turned, eyes intense. “We _need_ Peter.” Derek narrowed his eyes at that. “Peter’s a manipulative bastard who is an expert at deceiving his own blood. I know whenever he wants something, he comes straight to you. And when you want something, you reluctantly go to him. And yet, he always manages to twist the outcome, doesn’t he?”

Derek didn’t answer, eyeing her sceptically as he waited for her to elaborate, unsure of where she was going with this. If they wanted Peter, then they were wasting time with him, since Derek didn’t know of his location.

“Answer me something, how much do you know of the Spanish hunters?” Lori asked.

Derek tensed. He hadn’t encountered the hunters since his younger years, when he had accidently trespassed, only to be captured when they discovered what he truly was. He didn’t know much about them at all, only that they were apparently high ranks and weren’t a force to be reckoned with.

They had also attempted at capturing him and his uncle before, for what reason, Derek was uncertain, but nevertheless, they were in pursuit for days, tailing them and tracking their every move.

_Does that mean they’re back?_

 

***

 

Chris glanced out the window as he finally pulled up into the car park of the school, waiting for Stiles and Allison. Everything had been quiet recently, too quiet that it was starting to get concerning. Chris hadn’t heard from them at all, so he had no idea of their progress.

He was about to call them himself, when he spotted Allison assisting Stiles out of the main door, Stiles wearing a scowl on his face. Chris wondered if he had been acting that sour all day. He gestured them over as he got out himself, attempting to help Stiles. Surprised when Stiles accepted it, he gave the crutches to Allison as he helped Stiles clamber in, making sure to stretch out his leg. Allison and Chris both got in as they both looked at Stiles sprawled on the backseat.

“How was school?” Chris asked to break the tension, only it lingered in the air a little too long.

“Awesome” Stiles murmured to himself sarcastically. “I mean, it was tedious. I covered most of the stuff a long time ago.”

“Only because you read ahead” Allison twirled in her seat to face him with an unamused face.

Stiles felt like sticking his tongue out, but refrained when he gave her a wide grin that stretched from cheek to cheek, probably his most smug smile he’s ever pulled.

They eventually drove back after a few rounds of bickering between them. Stiles began to adjust to his position on the seats, humming in exasperation at the pricking sensation of pins and needles in his leg. Suddenly, Chris’ phone began to ring. Stiles watched his reaction and it seemed Chris hadn’t expected them to call as he noticed the instant widening of his eyes and change in demeanour. In an instant, their car was pulled over to the side of the road while he answered. Stiles couldn’t make out any words exchanged from the other line as Chris grunted and hummed in response. He tried to say something but he seemed to have been interrupted as he huffed in aggravation. Chris suddenly tensed up as he sighed deeply, hanging up with a stab of his thumb.

“What’s up?” Stiles asked warily.

Chris’ demeanour didn’t change and didn’t face them as he replied. “I need to take a detour. Unless, you want me to drop you guys home?”

“Yeah, I need to study” Allison replied without hesitation. “Dad, what’s going on?”

Chris was reluctant to reply, “Friends of mine. They need help with something…”

“Business?”

“Something like that.” Chris nodded. “But it’s nothing you should worry about. I’ll take you both home-”

“No, I’ll go with you. I don’t need to study.” Stiles blurted out.

“Stiles –“

“I won’tget in the way. Hey, I might be useful.” Stiles pressed.

Chris turned to face him then as he reconsidered his options, “Are you sure? I don’t think this is something you ought to see.” Chris cursed internally as he regretted his wording. Allison’s attention was on him again, this time frowning.

“Ok, now that just makes me more interested. If it was that bad, you wouldn’t have mentioned it all”

Chris nodded as he started the car again, intending to drive back home to drop Allison off before taking care of business. Allison had pressed the subject further like he knew she would, be he refrained from giving away too much. When they arrived, Allison gave them one last look before she went inside, clutching her books to her chest as it began to rain, hard.

“You sure about this?”

Chris snapped his head to the side to look at Stiles. “About what?”

“Whatever it is someone’s asked you to do. You’re pretty tense.” Stiles’ concerned eyes lingered on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Stiles supposed it would have to do. Nevertheless, he would keep an eye on him anyway.

They drove for what felt like hours, the silence between them began a tension that suffocated Stiles as he grew anxious, glancing out the window and watching on. The rain had eventually stopped, which seemed to put Stiles in a better mood than before as he stared ahead, fixated on passing trees and the sunlight peeking through their branches, creating stripes of light and darkness that flickered as they drove. That was until the scenery around them shifted dramatically when Chris turned off. Stiles leaned forward in his seat, eyes trained on the ash remnants that were once trees standing tall and stretching high, the dryness of the soil and what seemed to be the remains of buildings that had collapsed from the flames scattered on either side, nothing left but mere piles of black wood.

Stiles immediately casted a glance at Chris, who automatically clutched the steering wheel, his expression hardening, but he noticed the subtle flash of pain across his face. This only made him more cautious; his hand lowering until his fingers gently brushed his thigh holster, as a precaution. Everything around them resembled one of his nightmare’s which were more frequent recently, and he wondered for a brief moment if he was actually asleep. Trying to distinguish reality from his dreams was becoming impossible. The car suddenly came to a stop, tires scratching the rough surface as Chris clambered out of his seat. Stiles hesitantly followed him, grabbing his crutches.

Chris was about to protest at Stiles exiting the car but Stiles spoke up nonetheless.

Stiles glanced around them cautiously, his expression reflecting his inner insecurities. “Bit of a sinister place to meet up with your friends”

Chris raised an eyebrow at him.

“Is this a negotiation or something? Is that why we’re so far from town?”

He would never admit it of course, but this was seriously starting to make his skin crawl and the constant need to be on high-alert never faded. Stiles hoped he wasn’t being overly erroneous. It wouldn’t have been the first time and he didn’t want to go through that with Chris again, it was embarrassing. So, instead, he remained stoic as he waited for a simple answer from Chris as he followed his movements and his stares when he paid more attention to a particular area around them. Stiles was about prod at him when Chris finally answered.

“’Negotiation’ isn’t a word I would use, but, sort of” Chris turned and walked onwards, eyes trained on the ground.  “It should be around here.”

Stiles was about to question, when he followed Chris’ gaze to something under the tree stump. He didn’t know if it was the lack of light out here, but it looked like an entrance that had been covered up with leaves and other resources. Chris knelt down as he brushed off its contents, glancing up at Stiles like this was an answer to everything that had been rattling around in his skull.

“It’s a hidden passageway, like an escape route that was used years ago; the other entrance is miles away but it was blocked off-“ Chris paused again, “However we’re still able to pass through to the chamber.”

“I’m sorry, what? There’s a chamber under here?”

“Yep.” Chris simply replied as he yanked the barred door out of the way, bringing his legs round to jump down, leaving Stiles with his jaw slack and his eyebrows raised.

“Okay,” Stiles chuckled in disbelief, “Should I be worried?”

Chris seemed tempted to shrug as he looked up at Stiles through the entrance, shaking his head, “No.”

Stiles bit his lip in consideration, rotating his head to look behind him.

“Actually, I’ve thought about it more rationally, and I think it’s best if you go back to the car; what with your crutches and – I won't be long – “

“Nuh-huh, you sold it to me already.” Stiles protested as he lowered his crutches and carefully sunk to the ground, gripping the edge of the overhang.

Chris tried to reason with him again, but Stiles was having none of it, as he motioned for Chris to help him. Eventually, Chris gave a harsh sigh before helping him down to the floor, closing the entrance behind them by covering it up again.

While Stiles readjusted himself, Chris retrieved his flashlight from his pocket, directing it so he could see down the tunnel.

“Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m in a horror movie.” Stiles rasped as Chris made a small noise of amusement. “I’m half-expecting to see the Slender-Man.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. Is it far? I thought you said you were meeting with your friends because they needed your help.”

Chris was about to reply when they suddenly heard a clattering of metal up ahead. In response, Chris instantly rose his weapon; directing the flashlights in front of them. They were both panting heavily; standing their ground until they heard echoes of footsteps. Stiles’ fingers trembled slightly, when he spotted a hovering light approaching them down the tunnel, a tall, slim shadow appearing on the wall.

Stiles froze. “Oh my god. It’s actually him. We’re gonna die.”

“We’re not going to die” Chris bit back in a hushed whisper.

A figure suddenly lunged from the shadows, gun pointed in their direction until they all made eye contact.

“Chris” The stranger verified as he lowered his weapon.

“Daniel.” Chris said stiffly in response.

“About time you got here. Come on.”

Chris followed him without another word before shooting a glance at Stiles. Stiles picked up his pace as he frowned, taking in the marks and scratches carved into the walls. The place did resemble some sort of prison cell, damp, dark and just plain creepy. He squinted as he inspected the tally marks carved onto the wall, like someone had been counting.

They wandered until the tunnel lead into a dimly lit, spacious room, where a group of people stood in waiting. Stiles noticed the sealed, metal door on the opposite side of the room as Chris approached the others. Stiles kept his eyes on the door as he slowly approached it, eyes narrowing in response to his internal analysis, practically filling every part of his body until he stopped right in front of it, reaching a hesitant hand out to gently touch the cold metal. Stiles glided his splayed hand down the rusty surface until he felt a portentous sense of dread and pain suddenly rush through him as he yanked his hand away. He had no idea where that had come from.

“What the hell have you got behind there?” He asked to no-one in particular.

“That’s what we wanted Chris for.” Stiles turned to view a skinny, dark-haired woman approaching them, eyeing up Stiles as she did so. “Though, I didn’t think he’d bring you.”

“I made my own decision actually. It sounded ominous.” Stiles bit back, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

She hummed in response, unamused as she turned to Chris, “This is something you ought to see.” Chris eyebrows rose as his jaw tensed, “Don’t worry, _junior_ can come too.” She mused as she gestured for them to follow her to the door.

Stiles scowled at her in response to her ‘junior’ comment, but his attention was soon back on the door as a group of men surrounded the door while two of them yanked it open, the metal creaking loudly and clashing with the wall when they lost their grip on the door. Stiles couldn’t suppress the tension he suddenly felt when he entered, glancing behind him at the group briefly before he joined the others. The woman called for her men to close the door, leaving them enveloped in darkness. Stiles couldn’t see a damn thing and then he heard a small rattle of chains in front of him, although it sounded more above him. A blinding light appeared beside him, the humming noise filling the silence as he squinted harshly, trying to let his eyes readjust.

“You need information about Severo and his group? He’s the best lead we got” Lori spoke sharply.

Stiles’ eyes could finally make out a figure before him; his heart plummeting in his chest. Or maybe it was in his throat. It didn’t matter, because this was some sick idea of a joke.

Chris seemed oblivious to Stiles’ sudden change in manner when he suddenly grabbed Lori’s arm and dragged her away from them to speak with her privately. Stiles watched briefly, seeing them pause just in front of the door, before he felt eyes on him. Stiles tried to resist. He shouldn’t turn and look; shouldn’t meet those iris eyes that had haunted him as well as the crimson glow Stiles constantly witnessed with this particular werewolf.

“Stubborn bastard this one.” A gruff voice that sounded like it was directed at him. It wasn’t until the speaker came and stood next to him that he made a small noise of acknowledgment. He made the mistake of following the guy’s glare.

Stiles felt as though he was literally pinned with the wolf’s stare, immobilised and unable to look away even if he wanted to. Stiles didn’t want to know what kind of expression he was wearing as he unexpectedly felt a wave of guilt overtake him, like Stiles was in the wrong, even though he wasn’t involved in this capture at all. Or was he?

Stiles’ eyes widened as he remembered leading him away from the hunters the night he was shot to where he thought was an escape route. _Oh god_. Does that mean Stiles lead him straight to an ambush without Stiles even knowing? He’d tried to return the favour to the guy but he had only got him captured….and tortured?

No wonder Stiles felt the pang of guilt, werewolf or no werewolf.

“What are you…” Stiles thought carefully, “trying to get out of him?”

The older man grunted, “A location of his pack. As far as we know, his members fled before we could capture them, so, we’ve tried ‘negotiating’ but he either blanks us completely or says ‘he doesn’t know’, which we know is total –“

“Why do you need his pack?” Stiles interrupted sharply, folding his arms as he began to chew his thumb in thought.

Before he could answer, Stiles noticed Chris and Lori approaching them. Lori seemed agitated for some reason. The silence that followed was thick until Stiles spotted Lori taking a confident step forward, earning a weary, yet still threatening growl from Derek.

“Tell me Stiles,” she began, “Has Chris ever told you of the Spanish hunters? And a guy named Severo?”

Stiles suddenly felt everyone’s attention on him, “May have mentioned it. Why?”

“Well then you should know; they’re not like us. They don’t have rules or codes to abide by, they’re ruthless, ambitious – it’s disgusting. The group do nothing but soil our name and what we do as hunters. We hate to be even associated with them. Just a few weeks ago, they –“ Lori paused for a moment when her eyes flickered towards Chris. Her hands curled into fists, fingers biting into the skin.

Stiles’ own puzzled eyes passed between them until Lori planned to continue, but she suddenly seemed hesitant, like something was eating its way at her from the inside.

“It may sound as if my personal feelings are striving me to find them and confront them, but what they do is wrong.” Lori suddenly turned to face them. “It’s necessary that we locate them at any cost before any _more_ damage is done, and he – “she pointed towards Derek, “has a member in his pack; _Peter_ , who is more than familiar with them” she hissed.

Derek lifted his head at the mention of his uncle and frowned, accidently catching the eyes of the young boy again. It wasn’t that he wanted to, not at all, if anything, it made it more difficult but yet, no matter how hard he tried; his conscious always seemed to seek him out.

“Peter formed alliances with them in the past, so he’ll know of their motives. One way or another, he will provide us with the information we need, but we can’t find _him_ unless this guy spills.” Lori stalked closer, “We’ll keep you in here for weeks if we have to.” She whispered to him.

Derek scowled back, but otherwise remained stoic until he picked up a hitch in the youngest hunter’s breath.

“You also think they’ll come back searching for him” Stiles broke the silence, shuffling his feet in discomfort.

“Yes. Either way, we’ll be waiting for them.” She verified, tearing herself away from the werewolf who looked ready to throttle her if he could.

Stiles couldn’t help the tight constriction in his chest as he stared onwards. He understood then, why Chris was hesitant on allowing Stiles down here. He’s heard rumours and the aftermath of these sorts of situations and Stiles would admit that it honestly didn’t sit well with him. Sure, he loathed werewolves down to the bone, but torture was still torture and suffering was still suffering. Whenever he hunted a werewolf or other supernatural beings lurking in Beacon Hills, he would kill on sight, end it then and there without any hesitance. It was their only method of protecting people; something that dangerous couldn’t be left alive - was what Chris always told him. The thoughts raced around in his mind, which made observing the scene much more unsettling, especially since the victim wouldn’t stop staring at him.

_Why is he looking at me like I should do something?_

“Lori, that’s enough.” Chris started sharply, advancing towards her.

 _Should I do something? Oh god, I don’t know!_ Stiles clutched at his head, but continued to listen in.

“Don’t forget, I specifically ordered you not to intervene with the Hales.” Chris began, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

Lori turned instantly, her stance defiant. “I’ll say it again. I _remember_ you telling me to do what I have to, in order to get a loca –“

“After I said that.” Chris seethed.

“Is this about your sister again?” Lori pressed.

Chris’ jaw tightened but he remained stoic before almost spitting out a simple, “No.”

Stiles watched intently, but Lori looked unconvinced. “You know I’m only doing what needs to be done.” And with that, she more or less stormed out, avoiding eye contact with Stiles altogether.

He was uncertain of what to do next. Chris resembled a ticking time bomb right now, that Stiles should probably try to restrain his verbal diarrhoea. That was a lot and yet so little information to take in, that Stiles was sure he would crack eventually and urge with the questions.  

 

 


End file.
